To Get the Fire Back
by pepperlandgirl
Summary: Spike disappears from Sunnydale, and when Angel finds him 10 years later, he has changed...dramatically. What can Buffy do to help? S/B
1. Default Chapter

Title: To Get The Fire Back.  
  
Summary: A/U after Pangs, set after season 6. Spike has disappeared for ten years, and when Angel finally finds him in LA..he's very different. He lacks fire.Will Buffy be able to help him? S/B  
  
A/N-The Summary doesn't do it justice. Just read it, and you'll see. How can I summarize it when I barely know what it's about? It is AU after Pangs, all of the MAJOR events happen, but Buffy and Spike's relationship was drastically different.  
  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine, blah blah blah.  
  
Rated R For: profanity, violence, and implied sexual situations.  
  
Prologue  
  
He couldn't remember the sound of his own voice. This disturbed him, vaguely. He remembered Giles' upper-class accent, and Dawn's warm, honeyed voice, and the Slayer's icy yet sweet voice, like strawberry ice cream. But he couldn't remember his, and it never occurred to him to actually say something. He remembered he was from England. Which part? It hardly mattered anymore. Did he sound like he was from England? Did he have an accent like Giles?  
  
He remembered their voices, and their laughter, but he couldn't remember their faces. Dawn had blonde hair, or was that Buffy? Maybe both, they were sisters after all. At least, he thought they were sisters, but he had a niggling suspicion that they weren't related at all. Was Giles their father? Did it matter anymore?  
  
He knew there should be other people in his memories of the Hellmouth. Where was the Hellmouth? Sunny something. They danced on the peripheries of his memory, red hair and green eyes, and lame jokes and big hands. And who were they? Did they even exist?  
  
Were they still alive? No...humans didn't live this long? Did they? He didn't know anymore, maybe they did now. Maybe they weren't humans at all. He remembered the way Buffy fought-well, he remembered he admired the way she fought. She was definitely human, warm, passionate, vanilla and chocolate and bursts of golden light. Therefore her friends must have been too.  
  
Spike was tired..just tired. He still fought every night, like the Slayer, but he didn't remember why he fought. Most of the time he didn't even realize what he was doing. The other half he seemed to watch the punches, kicks, stakings, beheadings, and stabbings as if he were a detached observer, showing only a disdainful interest. But he fought and he didn't know why.  
  
And some nights he cried and he didn't know why. Silent, broken sobs that left him drained and tired. He felt broken. And old. How old was he? The world hadn't changed so much, and it was difficult for him to mark the passing years without a reference point. There was no constant in his life except the killing. The killing, night after night, the killing. That never stopped. It was infinite, the killing, and he wondered sometimes, did he kill the Slayer? Did he kill her sweet sister? He just didn't know. He didn't think so, but one never could tell. He could barely remember them, much less what happened to them.  
  
He could barely remember who he was. Spike, his name was Spike. And William. He had two names, and sometimes he didn't know which to answer to. But that was never really an issue because nobody every called for him.  
  
No talking, no laughing, no singing, no love, no hate. He just existed, somewhere, alone. Alone.  
  
On some of his more lucid days, he worried a great deal. He felt as though he should go back to the Hellmouth, if he could ever find it. He felt as though he was needed, that there was something or someone for him there. He just had to find his way again. At these times, he would panic and become frantic. But he didn't know what to do, and so eventually his determination to get back would whither and hibernate.. it never quite died. But he didn't know where he was, so how was he supposed to figure out where he was going.  
  
Stake a vampire. Poof.  
  
Oh. He was fighting. Ok, he looked around to see if he was fighting anybody else, but there were only piles of dust at his feet. Would he turn to dust when he died? Of course he would, that's what vampires do. But he felt human. It was the soul. Sometimes, in those lucid moments, Spike suspected that the confusion, the inability to do anything, to go home, was the soul's fault. It was hurting his head somehow.  
  
That's why he didn't know his real name (Spike? William?) anymore. The soul was there, blanking everything else out, but how on Earth did a vampire get a soul? And why? He didn't know.  
  
He knew one thing though, knew it for certain. This was torment. This existence and non-existence, being and not being. This was hell. Whatever he had done, he was sure he deserved it. But he didn't know how much longer he could last before he went for a walk into that enticing golden light, so much like the Slayer..He would probably go when he forgot her voice. If he forgot her, what possible reason could he have for existing?  
  
Chapter 1.  
  
"Spike, can you hear me?" Angel spoke loudly and slowly, hoping that this time there would be a reaction from the other, disheveled vampire. But Spike didn't respond. He never responded.  
  
Buffy frowned, "What's wrong with him?"  
  
Angel shrugged, "I really don't know."  
  
"Why don't you tell me how you found him?" Buffy was torn between curiosity and disgust and hate and pity. God, this..this blank, sightless vampire sitting there surely wasn't her Spike?  
  
'Since when has be been yours?' An inner-voice asked. 'Since forever,' her heart answered, and she sighed aloud.  
  
"We were out, fighting a large gang of vampires. Suddenly, he appears out of nowhere. Gunn was going to stake him, and I was going to let him, until he started killing the vamps, single-handedly. When he was done, he turned around, and kept walking. He ignored us completely, so we followed him."  
  
Spike twitched slightly, and mechanically reached out for the mug of blood that Angel had sat beside him nearly an hour earlier. He drank it in one gulp and gently set the mug down. His eyes never moved.  
  
"Anyway, we kept an eye on him, and realized he had a routine. About three hours after sunset he would show up, dust as many vamps as he could within three hours, and then return to where ever he was holing up," Angel explained.  
  
"Does he still do that?"  
  
Angel nodded and looked at the clock. "He should be heading out in about 15 minutes. But Buffy..you should see the way he fights."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He fights like a robot, his expression completely blank. But every once in awhile, his face will clear and he'll look surprised, like he didn't realize he was fighting."  
  
"Why did you call me?"  
  
"Spike overheard us when we were discussing what to do with him. I mentioned your name, and he actually smiled. Since it's the only reaction.."Angel shrugged. "We didn't know what else to do. Buffy, why would he smile for you?"  
  
It was a legitimate question, made perfect sense. Angel didn't know that the only thing Spike ever smiled for was her. Angel didn't know that Spike stopped smiling because of her. Angel didn't know anything.  
  
"It's..it's a long story. Can we talk about it later?" Buffy said softly. Angel nodded. Both of them looking at the vampire who stared at the wall past them. Buffy lapsed into her own memories. Had it really been ten years since he walked out? Since she let him go? What had happened to him in those ten years? He looked broken. Did she break him.  
  
"Do you want anything to eat or anything?"  
  
"I'll have a glass of water," Buffy said quietly. She wasn't thirsty, but she wanted a second alone with Spike without Angel hovering over her shoulder. When Angel left the room, Buffy kneeled in front of Spike and gently stroked his cheek. "Where ya been, Blondie?"  
  
Only his hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was a honey brown, long, and very dirty. Obviously showering wasn't part of his daily routine. His clothes were clean, but that was because Angel had got him some new ones. Apparently whatever he was wearing before stunk something awful. Spike didn't respond to her question. She continued to rub his face gently.  
  
"Oh Spike, what did you do? What happened.."  
  
**** "..here?" Buffy demanded angrily.  
  
Spike shrugged, "I had an accident."  
  
"This doesn't look like an accident, Spike. It looks like you destroyed Giles house."  
  
"Well, I didn't mean to destroy his house," Spike said defensively, "I was just redecorating."  
  
"Who said you could redecorate? And who said you could be untied?"  
  
Spike looked slightly sheepish, "Supernatural strength, Slayer. I got tired of being tied up so," he held his hands out, "I'm not tied up anymore."  
  
Buffy sighed, "Well, we're going to have to fix that."  
  
"No, no," Spike insisted, "I'll be good."  
  
"Spike, it's too late for that. Look at this mess!"  
  
Spike obediently looked around Giles' trashed living room. "Ok, I admit, it doesn't look good. But I'll clean it up."  
  
"Oh, I know you will. Because if you don't, Giles will have to sweep you up before he puts his house back together," Buffy's voice was cold and serious. Spike immediately set to work.  
  
"Aren't you going to help, Slayer?"  
  
"No, Spike. I'm going to watch." She perched on the couch, once Spike righted it, and twirled her stake lazily.  
  
He leered at her, "You like to watch Slayer? Kinky."  
  
"Less talk, Chippy, more work."  
  
They were silent for several minutes as Spike dusted up the broken glass under Buffy's watchful eye. She sighed and wondered what he had broken.. no matter how much Spike cleaned, Giles would still have a conniption when he got home. She doubted she'd be able to stop her watcher from staking his undead ass.  
  
Of course, she was forced to wonder why she even cared if Giles staked his undead ass. She'd never admit it out loud, but she was kinda starting to like the blonde menace..in an annoying, I'm going to kill him kind of way.  
  
"Giles is going to kill you, you know," Buffy said conversationally as she watched Spike carefully replace his bottles of scotch. Most of them were nearly empty. The floor wasn't wet, so Buffy was left to believe that Spike had finished them off himself. Yep, Giles would freak.  
  
"Good," Spike muttered under his breath.  
  
"What was that?" Buffy asked, still twirling the stake.  
  
"I said good Slayer!"  
  
"You wanna die Spike?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Buffy frowned. That didn't sound like Spike. He agreed to be tied up in the bathtub specifically because he didn't want to die. His sense of self- preservation was so strong tht he turned to his mortal enemies for help. Now he was willing to give up.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Spike paused and looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Because," he said slowly, "I can't hunt, can't feed, can't kill, and apparently, I can't even make a mess without being forced to clean it up."  
  
Buffy nodded in sympathy, "The Big Bad is reduced to the Kind of Naughty."  
  
Spike growled, "Shut up. I don't need to hear it from you. I should be ripping your throat out."  
  
Buffy laughed, "Yeah."  
  
"It's not funny Slayer."  
  
The smiled didn't leave her face, "Of course not. Never said it was."  
  
Spike sighed, "So where's your gang of losers."  
  
"Out," She said, her smile suddenly gone.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"They all have dates tonight."  
  
Spike's frown disappeared as quickly as Buffy's smile had. "Really? So you're left all alone huh?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "I don't mind."  
  
"No more school boys for you?"  
  
"Shut up Spike."  
  
"I can't say I blame them," he continued, "you probably broke the last one."  
  
"Spike." her voice held a very serious warning, but Spike pressed on anyway. What did he care?  
  
"It's ok. Mortal boys are so weak. And disappointing. He probably lasted what? 10, 15 minutes tops?" Spike smirked, "You need a real man. One that won't run out on you in the morning."  
  
Buffy paused..it was closer to 7 or 8. Parker was a jerk and bad in bed. And Angel..  
  
"Hit a nerve there, Slayer?" Spike asked when she didn't respond.  
  
"Spike, just shut up." All of a sudden Buffy was very, very tired. She had been extremely lonely since Angel left. She put on a brave face and didn't cry anymore, but he was more than just her boyfriend. He was her best friend. She was so lonely that she was seriously beginning to think about going out with Riley, even though he was kind of boring. But normal.  
  
Spike finished cleaning the kitchen, and slowly approached Buffy. She didn't seem to notice him though. He knew she was thinking about Angel. He wanted her to think about Angel. He wanted her to be in as much pain as he was. She deserved it, the bitch, walking around here all high and mighty, threatening him and.Jesus fuck, was that a tear?  
  
"Got something in your eye?" Spike asked casually, still moving towards her slowly.  
  
She blinked furiously, "Yeah, piece of dust."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Take another step, and I'll have a whole faceful of dust."  
  
"You don't mean it Buffy," his voice was soft now, deep, almost resonating inside of her. Did she mean it? God, she didn't know.  
  
"How do you know?" Her voice was calm, sure.  
  
"Cuz you want me to do this," Spike said, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek. His touch was feather light, almost like a breath of air.  
  
"No, I really don't." But she didn't shy away from his fingers.  
  
"Yes," his voice was a whisper now and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, "you really do."  
  
Did he want to kiss her next? He looked like he wanted to kiss her. Would she let him? God, was she moving closer to him? This was insane, he couldn't do this. She wouldn't let him. Yep, any second now she was going to pull away, but his mouth just got closer and closer to hers and her mouth was dry..and Giles burst into his house.  
  
"What the hell did you do Spike?"  
  
Buffy jumped up, guiltily, but Spike just took a step back with an air of nonchalance.  
  
"He got free," Buffy explained lamely.  
  
"How?"  
  
"He just.."  
  
****  
  
".got up and walked away," Buffy announced.  
  
"Did you try to stop him?" Angel asked.  
  
"No, I wanted to follow him."  
  
"Ok, let's go."  
  
They followed him down dark, deserted streets. They watched him fight, never helping or getting in his way. They were afraid he would stake Angel by mistake. Buffy was rather disturbed by what she saw. He was a killing machine. That's all. Fight, fight, stake, move on. There was no fire, no passion, no real purpose.  
  
Spike had always been a very passionate fighter. He was in his element, came alive, so to speak. Spike was passionate in everything he did, of course, but fighting was something special. Beautiful. Warm. But now it was cold and ugly. These deaths were so detached, so without purpose, that Buffy felt a little sick over it.  
  
"How long does he do this?" Buffy asked finally.  
  
Angel shrugged, "He should be done within the hour."  
  
"He only fights vampires?"  
  
"If he runs into a demon he'll take it out, but he only searches for vamps."  
  
"Humans?"  
  
"Doesn't even see them."  
  
"Well, that's something."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Spike suddenly turned on his heal and headed back to Angel's hotel. "Guess it's time to go home," Buffy said wryly.  
  
As they walked, Spike about 5 yards a head of them, they discussed what they should do with him.  
  
"We could just let him alone."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He's helping us, and he's not hurting anybody," Angel pointed out, "Why does he need to change."  
  
"Because he's broken Angel."  
  
"When he's fixed, Buffy, he's a killer. Cold hearted murderer."  
  
"No," Buffy said softly. "He's cold hearted right now. Spike has..  
  
*** "Fire." Spike announced.  
  
"What?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Fire. Why don't you just use fire."  
  
Buffy frowned, "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Fire bomb Adam's cave. It won't kill him, but it'll ruin all his pretty toys."  
  
"How do you know about his evil toys?"  
  
Spike shrugged but didn't answer. Buffy regarded him suspiciously. Ever since their almost kiss, Spike had been helpful, in his own evil way. He'd ignore them for hours, days even, and then out of nowhere announce a plan. Most of the time his plans weren't bad.  
  
"Xander, do you think we could get some grenades?"  
  
Xander shrugged, "I could try. If you really want to, though do you really think you can trust any of his plans?"  
  
Buffy sighed, frustrated. "His plan is to melt.uh Spike, what are we melting?"  
  
"Computers mostly."  
  
"Ok, his plan is to melt computers with big balls of fire. What's to trust?"  
  
"But how will that stop him?" Xander demanded.  
  
Spike shrugged, "It'll definitely put a crimp or a dozen in his plans."  
  
"Great," Buffy announced, "And since it's your idea, you can come with me tonight and do some recon."  
  
"Ok."  
  
That was another thing. He didn't argue very much either. That was fine by her. It's not like she wanted to argue with him, right? It's not like their arguments made her heart beat faster and her palms sweaty, and her stomach tingle.  
  
"We'll leave now."  
  
"Weren't you going on a date with Riley tonight?" Willow asked, and Spike grimaced.  
  
"Oh..yeah. Well, tell him that I'll meet him later in the Bronze. He'll understand. Come on Spike."  
  
Well, she hoped Riley would understand. Lately had been slightly touchy about how much she had patrolled. Ok, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she had been patrolling with Spike. But to be fair, that wasn't exactly her idea. Giles had insisted that she get him out of the house to work off some energy. Riley didn't understand why she kept protecting the vampire from the Initiative. Honestly, neither did Buffy.  
  
They were in the middle of Shady Rest cemetery, Buffy deep in thought about Riley, when she felt herself being pushed against the side of a crypt. Her back pressed into the cold, concrete wall, damp from an earlier rainstorm. Her first reaction was to fight, to push Spike away from her and maybe drive a stake through his heart when he motioned for her to be quiet. Thinking they were in some sort of danger, she stilled her struggles. He applied more pressure, keeping her pinned with his arm.  
  
"What? Is something coming?" Buffy whispered.  
  
Spike smiled, "Nothing coming, Slayer. Not yet."  
  
"What?" Spike was close now, just a few inches from her face. His body was pressed against hers, and part of her liked it. He was hard and cool, his skin stretched tight against muscles coiled with tension. It felt good to feel her enemy, feel his strength. She always delighted in Angel's strength when they were together, and she kind of missed that. The slight danger, and the equality. "Your chip?"  
  
"I'm not hurting you Slayer." His free hand traced her arm. "Am I?"  
  
She shook her head. She knew she could push him away at any time, and this knowledge allowed her to relax slightly.  
  
"What do you want Spike?"  
  
"What you want."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
His face filled her vision. God his eyes were so blue. He was going to kiss her. Finally. Wait..finally? Whatever, it didn't matter, because now his lips were almost touching her, and she could smell him, and he smelt really good. And was she really going to allow the evil, undead vampire to kiss her? Was she really going to like it? There was time, she could stop him.  
  
Oh, but she couldn't, because his lips touched hers and it felt very, very good. His lips tasted like the cool night, and they weren't harsh or demanding. They were searching and questioning, and Buffy was answering with her lips. On their own accord, her free hand snuck up and began rubbing his chest over his shirt. Slow circles directly above his heart.  
  
Fire. Fire shot through her body. Spike was cold, but he was made of fire. As the kiss deepened, that was one coherent thought that refused to escape. Fire.  
  
***  
  
"Spike's has fire," she repeated. "We need to get it back."  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

"Can you even begin to figure out what's wrong with him?" Angel asked.  
  
Buffy frowned, "No. I haven't seen him in a long time."  
  
"How long?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "Ten years, give or take. He just left town one night. I didn't bother to try to find him again." Well, that was only a half-lie, which meant it was mostly true.  
  
"Why'd he leave?"  
  
"I don't know." That was a complete lie. A big, fat, lie with teeth and horns. She could see by the look on Angel's face that he was aware of the lie.  
  
"Buffy, please. What happened?"  
  
"Why do you care?" She asked quietly. Why indeed? Just because it had something to do with his former lover and his..what exactly was Spike to Angel? Maybe a better question would have been, what wasn't Spike to Angel?  
  
"That's a hell of a question, Buffy. Because I care about both of you, and I think there is something important you aren't telling me."  
  
Buffy sighed, but she didn't answer immediately. She watched Spike. who was apparently getting read to sleep. He was still fully clothed, but he had stretched out on the bed. Buffy was loath to leave him alone, and so all three of them were in Spike's temporary room. It would be hard to explain it all to Angel, especially when she didn't understand most of it herself. She had acted so differently in those years with Spike than she had when she was a little girl with Angel. Would Angel want to hear about the woman she had become under Spike's watchful eye?  
  
"I wonder what he's thinking about?" Buffy said softly.  
  
Angel sat beside him on the bed. "Maybe nothing."  
  
Buffy took her place on the other side of Spike's prone body. "You didn't clean him. He's all dirty."  
  
Spike started slightly, and then words, thick with age, his voice rusty with disuse, wheezed past his lips. "Vampires are dirty."  
  
"Wait? Spike? What did you say?" Angel asked, leaning closer. But apparently Spike didn't have anything left to say, because his silence remained unbroken. Angel looked up to Buffy, "Did you catch what he said?"  
  
Buffy nodded, "Yeah. Let's get him cleaned up." Her voice and her face didn't betray the tumultuous emotions roaring through her, not the least of which was guilt. "I don't think we can make him shower. Perhaps a sponge bath?"  
  
"Buffy, that's the first time I've heard him speak since we've found him. That's only the second time I've seen him react to anything. Don't try to shrug it off."  
  
"Angel, we can talk about the various philosophical meanings behind 'vampires are dirty' all you want, after we clean this one."  
  
Angel sighed, "Fine, I'll be right back. Do you need help removing his clothes?  
  
Buffy hid a small smile, "Nah, I got it under control."  
  
***  
  
Voices, he heard voices. He could only catch every other word or so. The voices didn't make any sense, but it didn't matter, because the words he did catch were clear and strong. Fresh. Her voice was there. And another's..  
  
This voice, it was wrong. He knew it was wrong. It was flat, an American accent. Not the original brogue he was used to. It was suddenly very important to keep everybody's voice and accents distinct and categorized. It was all he had to go by.  
  
He could also see her face, but it seemed it was from a great distance away. It was older, there were a few wrinkles, but it was the same face. She didn't smile though, and he missed that. He didn't believe, couldn't believe, that she was real though. Nothing was real in this world, except the vampires.  
  
The dirty vampires. He heard her voice again, something about dirty vampires. He remembered that. It was important. Maybe it was why he fought.  
  
  
  
A/N--This chapter is super-short because I wrote it in between classes. There WILL be a longer one posted sometime this evening. Thanks for the reviews I've received so far, I hope y'all continue to enjoy my humble story. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you going to watch me bathe him?"  
  
Angel shrugged. "I figured you could wash and talk at the same time."  
  
Spike lay between them, asleep and naked. There was nothing erotic about his nude body, and Buffy did not feel that familiar stirring in her stomach. Buffy washed the blood, dirt, and vampire dust off of him carefully, making sure not to disturb him. Not that he would have noticed anyway.  
  
"I used to do this all the time," Buffy said softly.  
  
"You used to give Spike sponge baths?"  
  
"Well, I used to clean him up after battle. It was kind of a ritual," Buffy explained. "I would clean him, he would clean me.."  
  
Angel lifted an eyebrow, "Sounds like the two of you were close."  
  
"We were."  
  
"I don't get it Buffy. It's Spike for Christ's sake."  
  
"After he went to L.A. he came back to Sunnydale, and got caught by the Initiative. They put a chip in his head, to make him harmless. He couldn't hurt or kill any living thing..we didn't know how it worked, but we did know that he was harmless."  
  
"Ok, so that means you don't kill him. It doesn't mean you clean his wounds, and do God knows what else," Angel pointed out.  
  
"Well, we got along surprisingly well, after we stopped trying to kill each other. He kissed me, but we didn't really start being friendly until he found me.."  
  
*** ".Crying?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, are you crying?" Spike asked, sitting down beside her.  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"You may not be sobbing Slayer, but I can tell you're getting all watery. Here," he thrust a wadded up Kleenex into her hand.  
  
"Thanks. And I'm not all watery."  
  
"Uh huh. Whatever, Slayer. So come on, tell Uncle Spikey what's wrong."  
  
"Nothing is wrong! And what do you care?"  
  
"Well, I gotta know my enemy's weaknesses don't I?"  
  
"Well, when you put it that way," Buffy rolled her eyes. "I just want to be left alone right now."  
  
"That's your problem Slayer. Always out here, crying by yourself."  
  
"What do you know of my problems, Spike?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "I aim to cause most of them. Who would know more about them than me?"  
  
A small smiled touched Buffy's lips, against her will. "It's about Riley."  
  
"Take it from me, Slayer, that Sod is nothing to get worked up over. What did he do to you?" Buffy thought she detected concern in his voice, but quickly dismissed it. Why would he be concerned?  
  
"He didn't do anything. Angel did."  
  
"Wait, is this about the soddin' soldier or the prancin' poof?"  
  
Buffy sighed, "I'm worried, Spike ok?"  
  
"About what, pet?"  
  
Pet? "I'm worried that I'm with Riley because that's what Angel wants."  
  
"The love of your bloody life wants you to be with Captain America? I doubt it."  
  
"No, not with Riley specifically. He wants me to be with someone normal, have a normal life. And I just don't want to.."  
  
"What? Don't want to what?" Spike prompted.  
  
"Disappoint him," the slayer whispered, and suddenly she was no longer the Slayer. She was Buffy Anne Summers, a 19 year old college student, who was lonely and confused. She was not the strong, competent woman who averted three Apocalypses within as many years, she was a girl trying to figure out love and life, trying to plan for her future, albeit, a very uncertain one.  
  
Spike knew how to relate to the Slayer, a little sparring, physical or otherwise. He didn't know how to handle Buffy though. He had never seen her this vulnerable, but now she was looking at him like he knew some answer that would solve her problems.  
  
"He's not your daddy, Buffy, or your watcher. You don't owe him anything."  
  
"I knew you wouldn't understand," Buffy said coldly, turning her head away from him.  
  
"No, I think I actually understand one thing about you. You try to hard to please everybody around you, Slayer. Ever do anything for yourself?"  
  
"I don't know," she muttered.  
  
Spike shrugged, "There ya go. Stop worrying so much about what Angel," he said it like it was a dirty word, "wants, and focus on what you do."  
  
"And what is that, Spike?"  
  
"I don't know, but I want a fag."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Smokes, Slayer. Haven't had one since I got this bloody chip."  
  
"Giles doesn't want you smoking in his house."  
  
Spike smirked, "What, he doesn't trust me?"  
  
"You know, if you got your own place, you could smoke whenever you want."  
  
"Trying to get rid of me, Slayer?"  
  
"Just saying is all. Why are you still around stinking up the place?"  
  
"Guess I like the company."  
  
*** "That marked a turning point in our relationship. Suddenly he didn't seem quite so annoying."  
  
Buffy had finished washing his chest, and moved down to his legs.  
  
"What happened then?" Angel did not look very happy. Buffy supposed she could have vagued up the conversation, but it didn't really occur to her. Why not tell Angel the truth? She was going to have to tell him much more unpleasant things before this night was over  
  
"Not much. He moved out of Giles' place a week later, and we didn't hear from him until Faith came to town. For a while we thought the Initiative caught.."  
  
*** ".him?"  
  
"Buffy, Spike is a very capable vampire, I'm sure he managed to avoid the Initiative."  
  
"But he can't defend himself, and Riley, well, really has it out for him. I think this is more of a personal thing than a duty thing."  
  
"Why do you think that, Buffy?" Willow asked, looking up from her book.  
  
Buffy shrugged, "He thinks I spend too much time with him."  
  
"So Riley stakes him in a fit of unjustified, jealous rage. What's the problem?"  
  
"The problem is that, well, he's harmless!"  
  
"We have other problems right now, Buffy."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Giles sighed, "Like trying to figure out what the Initiative is up to. Why are they chipping vampires instead of just killing them? Why are they keeping demons in cages? This is the military, they don't just do things because they're curious."  
  
"Yeah," Willow added, "They aren't just a research facility. Unless the government thinks they can capitalize somehow on the "sub-terrestrials.""  
  
"Well, see, that's why we should worry about Spike. They could be trying to turn him into some sort of super-soldier or something."  
  
"A super soldier that can't attack people?"  
  
Buffy sighed, "I'm gonna go patrol."  
  
"Be careful," Giles called after her.  
  
"Always am."  
  
"Worried about me Pet?" Spike asked from the shadows as she stepped outside the door.  
  
"Fuck Spike! You scared about a year off of my life."  
  
He smirked, "Well, you know, gotta do my killing somehow."  
  
"Yeah, yeah yeah. Wanna patrol with me?"  
  
Spike shrugged and flicked his cigarette away, "Sure. Haven't had my spot of violence for the day."  
  
"So?" Spike asked, several minutes and two vampires later.  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Were you worried about me?"  
  
"Pfft, why would I worry about you, Chippy?"  
  
"I don't know, Blondie, why would you? I heard what you said to your watcher."  
  
"Well, they can't kill you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It's my job."  
  
"That it is, Slayer, that it is. You still seeing Captain America?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "Yeah. A girl's got needs, ya know. And oh my God, I just sounded like Faith."  
  
"Faith? She the other slayer?"  
  
"Well, was. She's in the hospital right now."  
  
"What happened to her?"  
  
"I, uh, kinda stabbed her in the gut."  
  
Spike stopped, "You tried to kill the other Slayer? We're not so different, you and me."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, "It wasn't like that. It's a long story Spike, and I know how you have an attention span of a peanut."  
  
"If you weren't so bloody boring, I probably wouldn't get so distracted."  
  
"So it's my fault you have attention deficit disorder?"  
  
"You're the fault of all my problems." Spike sounded dejected, resigned, but not particularly bitter.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean, Captain Peroxide?"  
  
But Spike was already gone, bleeding back into the shadows. Buffy finished her patrol alone, and when Riley called her that night to see if she wanted to "go out", she begged off with a headache. She just wasn't in the mood to see him. It didn't occur to her until much, much later that she never wanted to see him after she spent time with Spike.  
  
*** Buffy finished his legs, "Help me flip him over."  
  
"So, what? You were becoming friends?"  
  
"Yeah, we were. And it was strange, because I knew he was the evil undead, and a pain in the ass, but sometimes he could make me forget that."  
  
"He could make you forget he was a vampire?"  
  
"Yeah, he kinda burned it out of my head."  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N-This is another chapter written in between classes, hence the short length. I don't know if I'll be able to update again today, but I will try. (Gotta watch the actual show and I do have HW..)  
  
The voices were getting louder all the time. And it was definitely her voice. But Spike wasn't going to be fooled again. This had happened before, he thought he found her. But his happiness turned into bitter disappointment when he realized that it was only his imagination.  
  
The vague memories he had were merging with dreams, and it seemed that he was losing them, slowly but surely. But Spike could feel the dull fingers of that aching mist around his brain begin to retreat, and he welcome this thankfully. It seemed that a band around his mind was loosening, and he'd be able to think again. But he only had one thought, and he tried to escape it, but he never succeeded.  
  
The dirty vampires must be destroyed. Nothing that soiled, that disgusting, could be allowed to live in the world with her. The words circled in his head, over and over, providing him with purpose, but also filling him with shame and self-disgust. To escape, he tried to pull back into the mist that would cloud everything, blocking those harsh thoughts. But a part of him refused, and fought courageously to remain in the light. He couldn't fall back again, he needed to get home. He needed to find the source of this voice that washed over him like rain. He needed to make things right.  
  
*** "Angel, will you go get me something to eat? I'm hungry, and we're going to be here awhile."  
  
"We don't need to stay in here, Buffy, he'll be fine."  
  
"I don't want to leave him alone. You might want to get yourself some blood too, this may be a very long story."  
  
Angel nodded and departed. She wished Angel wasn't here at all, she didn't feel like rehashing the past in front of her ex-lover and first love. After the initial feelings of horror, pity and shock and departed, the old feelings of affection and tenderness came flooding back.  
  
She decided that she need to cut his hair, and maybe even bleach it again. He just didn't seem like Spike without it. Of course, it was very possible that this creature was no longer the Spike she knew, and would never be again. In that case it seemed silly to worry about the color of his hair.  
  
"Spike, I didn't want you to go. You didn't have to go. Fuck, you never left before when I told you to, why did you have to listen to me? You could have stayed; we would have worked it through.  
  
"Dawn, she missed you a lot. We all missed you. Even Xander. We were both wrong that night, I wish you would have given us a chance to fix it though." Buffy sighed, "Maybe when it comes to my vampire boyfriends, I'm still naïve. Maybe you were right to leave, but Christ, Spike, didn't you think I would need you? Didn't you think I had learned to count on you there to help me?" Her tone was rising and she forced herself to take a calming breath before she continued to talk.  
  
"I'm going to tell Angel everything, even the parts that aren't mine to tell. I'm sorry, you probably won't like that too much. Lord knows I don't, but I haven't talked to anybody else about it. Not Xander, not Willow, not even Dawn or Giles. They don't know everything, and it's just been bottled up inside of me, festering. So maybe it is a selfish reason to spill my guts, and yours too, I guess, but I need to do this."  
  
Buffy paused, almost as if she was waiting for a response from the sleeping vampire. None was forthcoming.  
  
"And when I'm done talking to Angel, I'm going to take you home with me. That's where you belong Spike. Sunnyhell."  
  
She leaned over and gently kissed his cool, and now clean, cheek. "Stupid..  
  
*** ".vampire!"  
  
"Stop calling me that Slayer."  
  
"I wasn't talking to you, bleach for brains. You know, if you are going to insist that you tag along with me every night, the least you can do is help me out."  
  
"You had it under control."  
  
"He ruined my new pair of pants! Do you know how much these cost?"  
  
"Don't know, don't care. Whatcha doing wearing new pants to patrol in anyway?"  
  
"I'm going to the Bronze with Riley tonight."  
  
"Yeah, so am I."  
  
"You're going on a date with Riley?"  
  
"No, I'm going to the Bronze, with somebody."  
  
Buffy snorted, "Who, Harmony?"  
  
"No," Spike shuddered, "and don't ever mention her name again. God that Bint drives me crazy."  
  
"I think it's sweet that you have a girlfriend."  
  
"Careful there, Slayer, don't choke on the sarcasm."  
  
"So, who is she?"  
  
"No one you know, Slayer."  
  
"Anybody I have to slay?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What does she look like?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "Pretty little thing."  
  
"How long have you known her?"  
  
"Not long."  
  
"Where does she live?"  
  
"Slayer, what's with the 3rd degree? You're not jealous are you?"  
  
She folded her arms defensively, "Of course not! Why should I be jealous?"  
  
"I like it when you're jealous, you turn a pretty shade of green."  
  
"I am not jealous. And don't talk to me tonight."  
  
"What, good enough to patrol with but not good enough to have a drink with?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Fine, Slayer. But don't you come and talk to me."  
  
"Oh, I have no interest in meeting your latest hoe."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"So," Spike asked several minutes later, "want me to walk you to the Bronze?"  
  
"I don't need your protection, Spike."  
  
"Never said you did, Slayer, just trying to be courteous." "You? Courteous? Hah! That'll be the day."  
  
"I'll have you know that I can be a perfect gentleman."  
  
"Uh huh, I'm sure you've eaten a few perfect gentlemen, but that's probably as far as your knowledge goes."  
  
"You think so, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
"I bet I'm more of a gentleman than your perfect little Riley."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
"Oh, I will."  
  
"Good, you can start.."  
  
*** ".tonight." Angel said apologetically.  
  
Buffy smiled, "No this is more than enough. I wasn't that hungry anyway."  
  
"So, where were we?"  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

"Why did we have to come to the Bronze," Spike's date whined as she twirled her hair.  
  
"Because I wanted to."  
  
"Well, can we dance?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
"Then go get something to eat."  
  
"Do you want anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Are you sure? Because I don't mind getting you something. It'll be a little extra work but."  
  
"Harm! Will you shut up?"  
  
"I'll just leave."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."  
  
Spike didn't pay any attention to the female vampire as she flounced out of the Bronze, angry and hurt. He didn't want to bring her, but he didn't want to show up to the Bronze alone after he had told Buffy that he had a date. And it didn't matter anyway, because Buffy was nowhere to be seen.  
  
But her soldier boy was there, drinking a beer with his mates. Spike was careful to stay hidden in the shadows, out of their line of vision. Buffy had warned him more than once that she may not be able to stop Riley from trying to capture him again. He watched as the other commandos flirted with the girls, danced, and generally had a good time. But Riley seemed lost in thought, and dull as dishwater.  
  
Finally, Buffy showed up, having changed her "ruined" pants. Spike rolled his eyes. If she would just wear regular jeans like a normal person, that wouldn't be an issue. But Buffy was far, far from normal. Even for a Slayer. She kissed Riley's cheek modestly, and Spike rolled his eyes again. They had all the passion of a couple of corpses. A girl has needs, but surely Captain Cardboard wasn't filling the bill.  
  
The girl needed someone, like, well, like him. At one time, Spike would have been disgusted by the very thought. They were meant to kill each other, not shag like wild animals. But now the thought was extremely attractive. He could show her and teach her things that she never dreamed of. Things she certainly wouldn't learn if she stayed with Mr. Normal.  
  
He watched them walk over to the bar and decided that it was time to refresh his drink.  
  
"It's on me Slayer," he said, as Riley pulled his wallet out.  
  
"Spike, what a surprise." Her voice indicated that it really wasn't. "Where's your date? Don't tell me she stood you up."  
  
"Went home a bit early is all. Let me get that."  
  
Riley was shooting daggers at him, "No thanks."  
  
"What? I can't buy a drink for friends?"  
  
"We're not your friends," Riley said tightly.  
  
Spike shrugged, "Suit yourself. Though I wonder why kinda tosser turns down a free drink." Spike turned his attention to Buffy, ignoring her flushed paramour completely. "You going out for a second sweep tonight, Slayer?"  
  
"Maybe. Why?"  
  
"Thought I might join you."  
  
"She doesn't need your help."  
  
"Why is that? You going with her?"  
  
"Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that?"  
  
"Not my problem, but the Slayer probably doesn't need to have the added trouble of protecting your bony, white ass. She's busy enough as it is."  
  
"You know," Riley said, taking a step closer, "my orders have changed."  
  
"Really?" Spike sounded as though he was very, very interested in this new development.  
  
"They're to kill Hostile 17 on sight. And look, I just happen to have a stake handy."  
  
"Ok, boys, that's enough." Buffy had been watching the exchange with mild interest. She knew she should step in before things got too heated, but it wasn't like she was going to let them kill each other.  
  
"Why do you keep protecting a hostile?" Riley demanded, clearly angry. Spike smirked. Maybe if he tried hard enough, this could be a full-fledged break-up fight.  
  
"Because, you have made him harmless." "He's still a vampire."  
  
"He's not hurting anybody!"  
  
"But he killed people for hundreds of years," Riley was shouting now.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey," Spike interrupted, "I'm not that old. Only 120."  
  
Both of them ignored him. "Riley, I don't want to fight with you about this. I thought we were going to have some fun tonight."  
  
"But it seems your work as followed you home, Buffy."  
  
Spike held his hands up in mock surrender. "Look, I didn't mean to start a fight. Just offering the lady a drink, and being a gentleman."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, "Go back to whatever hole in the ground you call home. I don't need your drinks or your help tonight."  
  
"Suit yourself Slayer."  
  
*** It might have been a memory; it might have been a dream. There was no sure way to tell. If it was real, than Spike knew it was the beginning of the end for Buffy and her pursuit of a normal life.  
  
He suspected it was a memory though, and this lifted his spirits. If it had been a dream, he would have been able to clearly see the Slayer, her boyfriend, and this "harm" person, who he just couldn't place. But he couldn't see them, only hear their voices. That night was important for another reason, though, wasn't it? Something else happened that night, and he desperately tried to find the memory again.  
  
He didn't go home that night, like the Slayer had told him to. Not immediately. Instead he went..somewhere else. Where? What happened? Spike felt like growling in frustration over the missing memory, but at the same time, he had the pressing reminder that it wouldn't do any good. Even if he managed to capture this one night and hold it tightly to his chest, it would be gone again when the mist returned.  
  
Even so, he didn't give up. Maybe this time, it would be different. This time he could hear her voice clearly, and that was something, wasn't it?  
  
***  
  
"Are you still patrolling tonight?" Riley demanded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alone?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why can't I come with you? It isn't because of what Hostile 17 said, is it?"  
  
"What? No, no. Nothing like that. You know you don't get in my way. Just sometimes I like to patrol alone."  
  
"You aren't going to accidentally," Riley put the word in air quotes, "run into him, are you?"  
  
Buffy sighed, "Riley, you have to stop this. Why would I want an undead, evil, vampire when I could have a sweet, normal, alive guy like you?" Why indeed, Buffy asked herself.  
  
He smiled, "We still on for the movies tomorrow night."  
  
"Absolutely." She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you then."  
  
Buffy decided to start her sweeps in the old industrial area of Sunnydale, where all the factories (abandoned and otherwise) stood. For some reason she never understood, vampires really liked to nest there. But then she guessed that vampires liked gross, dirty, dilapidated buildings. Spike certainly didn't seem to mind.  
  
She half expected to run into the evil undead, but apparently he had gone home like she told him to. Either that or he was doing the wise thing and staying the hell out of her way. She still couldn't believe the nerve he had to march up to the bar and announce he was buying her drink! Didn't she tell him to stay away from Riley?  
  
What was his game? Did he just want to start a fight? That was the most likely scenario. Couldn't kill anymore, so might as well spend the evening with some stupid, male posturing. And what was the deal with Riley? Didn't he understand that **she** was the vampire slayer, and therefore, got to decide when it was time to slay vampires? He may be in the military but she was the **Chosen One**, and she was willing to bet that that held more weight in the grand scheme of things. Especially when it came to annoying, chipped, smoking, blonde vampires.  
  
Buffy finished the factories and moved onto the cemeteries, but not with much enthusiasm. Between worrying about Riley's feelings, trying to figure out what feelings she had for Spike, and thinking about the test she was supposed to be studying for, she didn't have much energy left. Maybe that's why she didn't see the demon attack from..  
  
*** ".behind."  
  
Angel frowned, "You were blindsided?" "I probably would have seen him if I wasn't so distracted, or if I had brought someone along with me. It doesn't matter though, because someone did have my back."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Spike."  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

"Slayer! What's wrong with you? Are you trying to get killed?" Spike demanded, holding out a hand to help her up. She ignored it and tried to stand up on her own. She failed, miserably.  
  
"No, I'm not." She tried to stand up again, and this time she almost made it before she fell flat on her ass.  
  
"Sure looked like it to me. You were lucky I was here."  
  
"And why were you here Spike? I thought I told you to go home."  
  
"Funny, but I don't recall you being the boss of me."  
  
"If you knew what's good for you, you would have stayed home." Buffy tried to sound threatening, but it didn't work.  
  
"You are absolutely right. If I knew that the price I had to pay for being out after dark was saving your sorry ass, I would have stayed home."  
  
"Then why did you?" Buffy was angry, and hurt, and humiliated, and she didn't want to deal with Spike. Maybe if she acted like a real bitch he would go away.  
  
"I really don't know, Slayer. Lord knows my life would be easier if I let the demon tear your spine out through your ass."  
  
Buffy sighed, "Are you going to help me up?"  
  
"No, I'm going home. Like you wanted me to, remember?"  
  
"Well, now I want you to help me up."  
  
"Doesn't work that way Princess. I don't jump to your every command."  
  
"Fine, Spike, don't help. I'll be fine." She rose to her knees and winced as she felt the wide gash in her side open further.  
  
"Are you hurt Slayer?"  
  
Buffy looked up sharply. That was the second time she thought she heard concern in Spike's voice. "Not that you care, but yeah, I have a little cut."  
  
"Where at?"  
  
"Here." She pointed to the area just above her waistline on her left side.  
  
"Let me see it."  
  
"No! It's bleeding, you'll probably try to lick me or something gross like that."  
  
Spike sighed, "Tell you what. I won't lick you unless you want me to. Now, let me see it."  
  
Now that he was aware of the injury, he could smell the blood plainly. There was a lot of it. A frown marred his features as he kneeled beside her and carefully lifted her shirt. The demon's talon and ripped off a strip of skin, from her stomach all around her side, almost to her spine.  
  
"This looks bad, Buffy," he said quietly, trying to wipe away as much blood as he could with the hem of silk shirt. "Come back to my crypt, it's closer."  
  
"No! I'm so not going to your rat-infested crypt Spike. God knows what I might find there."  
  
Spike sighed in frustration, and stood up, angry. "Fine, then, I'll leave you out here and some nasty can come and get a bite of you."  
  
Buffy bit her lower lip, "Is it really that bad?"  
  
"Yes, it is. You're going to lose too much blood if we don't get you bandaged up."  
  
"What do you know about it?"  
  
"I might know a little bit about how much blood a person can lose before they die. Especially Slayers."  
  
"Referencing the slayers you killed before is not going to help your case, Spike." The words were mostly for show. The adrenalin had worn off, and pain was shooting through her body. She was also beginning to feel a bit light headed from the loss of blood.  
  
"Good God, you're going to pass out right in the middle of cemetery. Come on, up we go." Spike easily picked her up in his arms.  
  
She beat against his chest, rather ineffectually. "Put me down, damnit!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Slayer, I'm not putting you down, now hold still."  
  
"I hate you," she pouted.  
  
"Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual. Hang tight, we'll be there in a couple of minutes."  
  
Buffy relaxed into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder. He felt nice. Really, really nice. He smelt good too. Nothing like what you would expect an evil, undead thing to smell like. There was the slight hint of cigarette smoke, and whiskey, even blood, but something else too. Something sweet and dark.  
  
His gait was long and smooth and kept the shaking and bumping to a minimum. That was definitely of the good, because she felt like she was on fire.  
  
"Infected," she mumbled.  
  
"What?" Spike asked.  
  
"Might be infected." Her own words sounded very distant to her ears, like she was hearing her voice through long tunnels.  
  
"Yeah, sweetheart, it is." His words were so soft; she might not have caught them at all if his mouth wasn't so close to her ear. Sweetheart? Had he just called her sweetheart? She couldn't focus on that right now though, she'd think about it later.  
  
Spike moved as quickly as he dared. He should have just dragged her to her feet and to his crypt instead of standing around sparring with her. He knew the demon she was fighting carried a really nasty venom in its talon, and he hadn't even though to check her over for wounds. Stupid!  
  
"Slayer, you're not falling asleep are you?"  
  
"What happened to sweetheart?" She muttered.  
  
"You want me to call you sweetheart, Sweetheart."  
  
"S'nice."  
  
"Yeah? Thought you hated nicknames."  
  
"Like it when you're nice."  
  
"I like it when you're nice too."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Mmmm?"  
  
"The infection?"  
  
"The demon has poison in its talon. Once it enters the bloodstream, it acts quickly. If you weren't the Slayer, you'd probably be dead by now."  
  
"Reassuring."  
  
"I know. We're almost there."  
  
"Cure?"  
  
"Yeah, I know of a cure. Don't worry about it." Spike reached his crypt while he was speaking, and without breaking stride, he kicked the door in.  
  
"We're here," Buffy announced.  
  
"That we are."  
  
He laid her gently on the sarcophagus that doubled as his bed, but she held tight to his neck. He tried to disengage her arms, but she refused to move. "Come on, Slayer, you've got to let go."  
  
"Don't want to."  
  
"Yeah, but you have to."  
  
With a sigh she let go of his neck, and Spike quickly pulled away from her. He had to think, and he had problems doing that clearly when she was so close. He didn't have many supplies in his crypt. It's not like he had a lot of time to go scavenging for magic herbs that cured deadly poison.  
  
First things first though, he would have to clean her wound. He could do that, he had stolen a First Aid kit from the Watcher before he moved out. You never know when you would need clean bandages, especially in his line of work.  
  
"I'm gonna have to take off your shirt," he warned her. "Don't fight me, ok? You'll just make it worse."  
  
She nodded and slowly lifted her arms. "Does it hurt when you do that?" He asked. She nodded again. "I'll fix you up," he promised. He hoped he wasn't lying to her.  
  
He slowly removed her blood-stained shirt and winced at the injury. It was worse; the skin had turned a bright and angry red. He began to wipe the blood away, aware of every grimace and moan of pain. It was a long ordeal, but finally she was clear of blood. Due to slayer healing the wound had already began to close and the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.  
  
"You still with me?"  
  
"I am."  
  
Spike studiously kept his eyes trained on the gash and the red skin, as opposed to the creamy, silky skin of her breasts. Breasts that had been pushed up against his chest, soft and giving. He shook his head. Now was not the time to fantasize about feeling up the Slayer.  
  
Spike caught the Slayer's eyes and let his face change. There was a slight question in her eyes, but she didn't move them away as he cut his wrists with his fangs.  
  
"You're not going to turn me into a vampire are you?" It was obvious the question cost her a lot of energy.  
  
"Yeah, right, like I'd fancy spending eternity with you. This might sting a little." It stung a lot. She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to writhe away from Spike, but she wanted to. The pain had been fairly centered before, but as Spike rubbed his blood into her quickly closing wound the pain spread through out her body. It felt like a million needles stinging her entire body, from the tips of her toes to her eyeballs.  
  
"I know it hurts baby, just a little bit more," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "Just a little more."  
  
"Spike, please."  
  
With his free hand he gently caressed her face. "You'll be fine. Just a few more seconds. Then you can go to sleep."  
  
She nodded and clenched her jaw and fists. She could do this, she had had worse. Just because she couldn't exactly remember it didn't mean this was the worst thing that ever happened.  
  
Just when she thought she would lose consciousness, Spike pulled his wrist away. He quickly wrapped bandages around her body, making sure it was completely covered. "There you go."  
  
"What did you do?" She asked.  
  
"Vampire blood is a natural anti-venom. My blood coupled with your healing capabilities and you should be fine by tomorrow morning."  
  
"Am I supposed to stay here?"  
  
"Get some sleep for now. I'll take you home before sunrise."  
  
Buffy was too tired to fight with him and before he had even finished his promise she had drifted off to sleep.  
  
Spike sat there and watched her all night, not moving from his perch beside her. He kept an ear on her heartbeat, making sure it stayed strong and steady. As the night wore on, her breathing evened and the skin calmed to a shade of pink. As soon as she he felt like she was healthy enough to move, he lifted her and headed to her home.  
  
"Are you taking me home?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Yeah, pet, I am."  
  
"I feel better."  
  
"You are."  
  
"I'm still tired."  
  
His heart softened at the sound of her "little girl" voice. He never got a chance to see her really vulnerable, and now she was nestled in his arms, trustingly. How did Spike feel about that? He felt a surge of protectiveness. The Slayer did not need his protection, but it still felt nice to be needed, no matter how temporary.  
  
"We're here, Slayer. Can you walk?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I think you're lying to me, Buffy."  
  
"Carry me upstairs."  
  
"You're awfully bossy." But even as he was talking, he was moving carefully up the stairs. His duster swirled around his legs, and the stairs creaked under their combined weight.  
  
He laid her on the bed, then rummaged through her dresser looking for a T- shirt to cover her with. He found an old Sunnydale High t-shirt and her sushi pajamas. He pulled off her pants, half expecting to get kicked in the jaw for his efforts, but Buffy didn't protest. He wanted to caress her legs, skim his fingers down her sides and across her panties, but he figured it wasn't worth the definite dusty ending.  
  
Instead he put her in her clean clothes and took a step back. "Goodnight Slayer."  
  
"Night Spike." He turned to walk out the door when she called his name.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks, Spike."  
  
He smiled slightly, "Anytime."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yes, Slayer?" She obviously had no intentions of letting him go.  
  
"C'mere."  
  
"Is something wrong, Pet? Are you still in pain?"  
  
"No," she reached for him, and grasped his coat. She pulled him close and he didn't struggle. "Just wanted a goodnight kiss."  
  
Before Spike could pull away in shock, she kissed him gently on his lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah," he breathed, then escaped into the cool night, away from her flush skin and hot, inviting mouth. 


	7. Chapter 7

"I can't believe you asked him for a kiss goodnight," Angel said.  
  
Buffy shrugged, "I was mostly asleep, and he's a really good kisser."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Buffy lifted an eyebrow and Angel quickly backtracked, "Or so I heard. From Drusilla." Angel cleared his throat, "So did Riley ever find out?"  
  
She sighed, "Yeah. He wouldn't have known, except he dropped by my house the next morning, unexpectedly. He knew something was up when he saw me."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I never wore my sushi pajamas, and of course, it was obvious that I didn't bandage myself."  
  
"So he automatically assumed it was Spike?"  
  
"Well, no, but he found his.."  
  
*** ".lighter?"  
  
"Uh, it's mine," Buffy said tentatively.  
  
"Since when do you smoke?"  
  
"I don't smoke. It's for lighting vampires on fire, when I run out of stakes." Ok, that was really, really lame, but Buffy was hungry and groggy, and in still in slight bit of pain.  
  
"Uh huh. Did Spike give it to you?"  
  
"Why would you ask that?"  
  
"Because I saw him use this very lighter last night."  
  
Buffy didn't know how to respond to that. It probably fell out of his pocket when he leaned over to kiss her. Served her right, for being greedy. Riley looked very angry. "What was Spike doing in your room?"  
  
"He was putting me to bed."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Last night, he saved me from a demon. It almost ripped my guts out and poisoned me in the process. He took care of the venom, wrapped my wound, and put me to bed. I don't understand why you're so angry."  
  
"Because you said you weren't going to look for him."  
  
"And I didn't! I got blindsided by a demon, and he happened to be there."  
  
"Hostile 17 never just happens to be anywhere when it comes to you."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He's got some freaky obsessive with you. It's not safe!" Riley insisted.  
  
"He can't hurt me."  
  
"He's a vampire, Buffy. You slay vampires because they're dangerous. I don't understand why you are not getting this concept."  
  
"And I don't understand what makes you think you can talk down to me. I've been the Chosen One longer than you've been working for the Initiative."  
  
"Well, sometimes it's hard to remember that when you don't perform your sacred duty."  
  
"What would you know about my sacred duty, Riley? You read the Slayer Handbook? You participate in the training sessions? How many times have you saved the world? How many times, for that matter, have you taken Spike on in a fair fight and won?"  
  
"If 17 didn't have his chip, he would kill me."  
  
"Exactly. I have fought him several times, and I'm still here. He's not a threat. Not to me, not to anybody."  
  
"Buffy, he can still kill people. He knows vampires and demons that would be more than happy to do his bidding. Didn't you say he hired assassins to take you out once? What's to stop him from doing it again?"  
  
Buffy paused, Riley did have a point there. By this time they were both in the kitchen and Buffy was furiously making herself some eggs. She felt famished, and the fight was giving her a heady adrenalin rush. She moved carefully as possible in order not to break any of her mother's dishes or silverware.  
  
"I'll give him a chance."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Damnit Riley! Because when push comes to shove, it's my responsibility."  
  
"Angel was your responsibility too."  
  
"Riley," Buffy's voice was low and soft, deceptive, "let me make one thing clear. You do not know, you could ever know, what happened with Angel. Don't bring him up again."  
  
Riley took a step towards her and rubbed her arm gently. "I'm sorry Baby. You're right. It's just, Hostile 17 makes me so crazy! You have to understand."  
  
Buffy nodded, "I do, Riley, I do. But in the demon world, I'm in charge. The one girl in all the world, and all that stuff. Let me do my job."  
  
"I just want to help."  
  
"And you do, you help me a lot. I don't like when we fight Riley." She stood on her tiptoed (and registered briefly that she never had to stretch to reach Spike's lips) and kissed him softly. "Let's not fight anymore today. Mom's gone, we have the house to ourselves.."  
  
Riley smiled, "Do you have anything in particular in mind?"  
  
Unbidden, the thought of the blonde vampire came to mind. She firmly pushed the thought away and took Riley's hand.  
  
*** She trusted him once. The Slayer did. He knew, because he heard her say one day she would give him a chance. She didn't know he was there, but he had stayed in her basement, just to make sure that she wouldn't need anything.  
  
Spike had heard her fight with Riley, they were arguing over him. And she said that she would give him a chance. It shouldn't have mattered. He shouldn't have cared, or even wanted a chance to prove himself. He should have laughed at her and set about proving her wrong. He still had enough money to hire the assassins. He could still find someone to his dirty work.  
  
But it did matter somehow. Somehow it was very important. Not just because his life depended on it, but because he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to feel her, hold her. He wanted her to smile at him.  
  
He loved her.  
  
Sometimes Spike couldn't remember his own name. Most the time he didn't know where he was, what day it was, or even when he had last fed. But he remembered that. He remembered the epiphany he had had the day she shagged Captain Cardboard right over his head. He never forgot that fact, and would carry it with him until he reached his dusty end.  
  
He loved her. He loved the Slayer. He loved Buffy Anne Summers.  
  
*** "Spike was there the whole time."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"In the house. I found him later that night. The odd thing was, I was completely mortified."  
  
"Why? Did he give you a hard time?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, "You know Spike, made some subtle jabs, but that was it.. Told me he got trapped in the house while he was making sure that I got to sleep without problems. But I was still embarrassed."  
  
Angel raised his eyebrows.  
  
"I don't know. I guess I didn't want Spike to know I actually slept with Riley."  
  
"Yeah, I don't think any of us want to know that."  
  
"It was your idea."  
  
"It was my idea for you to sleep with Riley?"  
  
"Well, you wanted me to have a normal life."  
  
"If I knew you were going to run right into Riley's arms, I never would have said that."  
  
She hit his arm. "Don't start with me, Angel."  
  
"Ever think he was a mistake?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "I've made a lot of mistakes. But I never counted trying to have a relationship with Riley as one of them. The mistake was not ending it sooner."  
  
She looked at Spike and was silent for several minutes. Angel didn't break the silence, she looked very deep in thought. Lost in her own memories, wrapped up in her own regrets. Angel knew about regret, perhaps better than anybody. But he had a feeling that Buffy knew almost as much about it.  
  
"I was scared," she finally said. It was just a breath of sound.  
  
"Scared of what?"  
  
"I wanted him. I wanted him more and more with each passing day. It went beyond kisses and pet names. And it scared me." She looked up at Angel, and he could see that her eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I wasn't supposed to want him, I'm not supposed to want him still. But Angel it consumed me. I couldn't get.."  
  
*** ".away?"  
  
"I told you how I got away, Rupes, I ran out the door. A door that doesn't exist anymore. They must have closed it."  
  
"Well then you aren't much help to me."  
  
"The Slayer knows how to get in, what do you need me for?"  
  
"We kept you alive for your help," Giles pointed out.  
  
"And I did help!" Spike exploded. "Bloody hell, what do you want from me? I told you all about Adam's plan, what else can I do?"  
  
"How did you get that information?" Xander asked.  
  
Spike sighed, "Word travels fast in the demon world."  
  
"I thought you weren't welcome in those circles anymore?"  
  
"I'm not. This information was bloody hard to come by, and I thought you'd all be a bit more grateful. I risked my bleedin' neck for you lot, and you want more."  
  
"You're right, Spike," Buffy said, "you gave us a lot of help." She smiled at him softly and then turned to the rest of the game. "Between what I know about the Initiative and Spike's information, we can come up with a pretty good plan."  
  
"Has Riley called yet?"  
  
Buffy frowned and shook her head, "No, and I'm really starting to worry."  
  
Willow took Buffy's hand, "He'll be fine. I'm sure of it."  
  
"Thanks Wills. Ok, everybody try to get a bit of sleep and something to eat. We're going out after dark."  
  
The Gang spread out around Giles' apartment, doing whatever they needed to get prepared. Spike didn't move from his perch by the door.  
  
"Hey," Buffy said.  
  
"Hey," Spike returned.  
  
"Can we talk?"  
  
"Physically? Apparently so."  
  
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."  
  
"Yeah, Slayer, lead the way."  
  
"It'll have to be the bathroom. I would just go outside but."  
  
"You don't want to talk to a big pile of dust. Gotcha."  
  
Spike followed her to the bathroom and shuddered slightly at the site of the tub. "I never knew that chains could be so bloody embarrassing."  
  
Buffy laughed softly at the comment. "I don't even want to know."  
  
"So, Slayer, what's up?"  
  
"Why don't you tell me how you know Adam's plan?"  
  
"I told you. Heard it through the grapevine."  
  
"Spike, please, you're a horrible liar. Just tell me."  
  
Spike stared at her, and she could see the wheels spinning in his head. She could almost see him weighing his options. She folded her arms and waited patiently.  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"I have to know your source to gage how accurate the information is."  
  
"I got it from Adam, ok?"  
  
Buffy frowned, "How?"  
  
"What do you mean, how? He told me."  
  
"Ok, why?"  
  
Spike sighed, "He offered to take my chip out. In the process he told me what he was up to."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Get the chip out?"  
  
"If I did, do you think I would be talking to the Slayer in her watcher's bathroom?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "Didn't trust the bloke."  
  
Buffy was standing just two feet away from him, close enough to touch if she reached for him. Just a few steps and he would be close enough to kiss. He didn't have to spell it out for her, and she didn't have to ask. He didn't get the chip removed, didn't betray them, because he wanted his chance to start over.  
  
She knew Spike was too proud to ever admit to that. He still wanted to keep up the image of the Big Bad, but Buffy was slowly coming to understand that that was a façade. There was something deeper about Spike, beyond his evil ways.  
  
Almost on their own accord, her feet moved forward. She was pressed up against him now, and she almost sighed with relief. For the past two weeks all she wanted to was touch him, but she never allowed herself the luxury. She avoided all touching and kept her distance. Apparently, Spike had noticed.  
  
"Well, Slayer, didn't think you cared anymore."  
  
She tilted her head towards him slightly, in a silent invitation. He didn't need to be asked twice. He captured her mouth and with an audible sigh of relief, she opened her lips. Riley was nice, and she was still worried about him, but he didn't make her blood boil like this.  
  
His hands crept under her shirt and he cupped her breasts gently, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs. He echoed her sigh from earlier. It felt so good to have her this close, in his grasp. He wanted to take her right there on the bathroom floor. Buffy wanted to let him.  
  
"Spike.."  
  
"Wha?"  
  
"We..we.gotta stop."  
  
"I don't want to." He was kissing her neck now, feeling the beat of her strong pulse against his lips, listening to the blood rush so close to the surface of the skin. He didn't want to bite her, but it was still a heady experience.  
  
"I don't either," she admitted, "but we can't do this."  
  
Spike lifted his head, "Why not?"  
  
Buffy forced herself to look away from his blue eyes, afraid if she looked she would fall into them. "Everybody is just outside the door, and well, we're in the bathroom."  
  
Spike looked around, as if only now noticing where they were. "Good point."  
  
Desire was coursing through Buffy's body, and it was almost impossible to take another step away. "I gotta focus right now."  
  
"I know."  
  
She kissed him again, this time it was soft and quick. A promise. Spike was willing to wait. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N-This chapter has the sex. Just thought I'd warn you.  
  
  
  
"Well, anyway, you know how we defeated Adam with the joining spell. Spike protected the door so that they would have a quiet spot to perform the spell."  
  
"I can't believe he had the chance to get his chip out and he turned it down."  
  
Buffy shrugged, "Well it wouldn't have worked anyway. We defeated Adam. And you know how Spike is. Ultimately, he follows his heart."  
  
"You think he was in love with you?" Angel asked.  
  
"I don't think. I know."  
  
"How?"  
  
"He told me."  
  
"You believed him?"  
  
"He showed me."  
  
"What if he just wanted to get into your pants?"  
  
"I just wanted to get into his. He chose to keep his chip and help us fight, and he saved my life. He kept giving me more reasons to trust him."  
  
"But Buffy, he was evil."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed quietly, "he was. But if he wanted to just get into my pants, he would have got the chip out, lied to me, slept with me, then afterwards stalk me and kill all my friends."  
  
Angel winced at the description. "I thought he didn't have a choice, Angel, because of you. But he proved to me that he did. In many ways, it reflected very poorly on you."  
  
"Buffy, Angelus is a different person."  
  
"I know. But Spike doesn't have a bizarre split personality. He is who he is, and if you don't like it, well, you can shove it up your ass. Gotta admire that."  
  
Angel sighed, "Ok, point taken. What happened after you defeated Adam?"  
  
"Well, I told you about our crazy dreams and the First Slayer, right?"  
  
"Yeah, did you ever figure out what was up with the Cheese man?"  
  
Buffy smiled and shook her head, "No. I think Willow will be trying to figure that one out for the rest of her life. Anyway, I didn't tell you about everything that happened that night. Spike dropped..."  
  
*** ".by," Spike said with a shrug.  
  
Buffy sighed, "Well, since you're here, come on up."  
  
Spike had been standing under her window when she entered her room. She could sense him before she could see him, and she wasn't surprised when she spotted his blonde head.  
  
He scaled the tree and entered her room with a grin. "Just wanted to see if you were OK after the big fight and everything. Didn't get much of a chance to talk."  
  
"Well, yeah, you were busy ripping heads off of demons when we left."  
  
"Should have stuck around a bit longer. It was a right good time."  
  
"I figured you had it under control. You did, right?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "Of course." The grimace that past over his face when he shrugged was fleeting, but Buffy caught it.  
  
"Are you hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Spike, stop with the macho bullshit. If you're hurt, let me see."  
  
"I didn't come over so you could play nursemaid. Though on second thought.." He leered and peeled his coat off and his shirt followed that.  
  
His chest was covered with bruises and cuts, most of them shallow. She examined them closely, running her fingers lightly over his chest, tracing the marks. "They're not bad," she said.  
  
"No," he agreed, his voice tight, "I'll survive."  
  
"Uh huh." Buffy's hands were still on his chest, but she was no longer concerned with his injuries. He was only slightly cooler than her own flushed skin. Spike closed his eyes and she continued to rub his chest, and then lower, to his abs. She was delighted at the feel of his skin, smooth, and the way his muscles tensed under her searching fingers.  
  
Spike grasped her wrists when she began fumbling with his fly. "What are you doing Slayer? Aren't your friends right downstairs?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"They could barge in any second."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed without moving her hands from his pants.  
  
"Where's your soldier?"  
  
"Debriefing."  
  
"He could come back any minute."  
  
Buffy shook her head, "Debriefing can take a long time."  
  
Spike nodded, "Just wanted to make sure you understood the risk here."  
  
Buffy nodded, "I do."  
  
"Great," Spike released her hands, "Please continue."  
  
The sound of the zipper was very loud in the room, and Buffy froze for a moment, convinced that someone would come up to see what's going on. "I'm going to make sure they're asleep," she whispered.  
  
She tore herself away from him and peeked her head out the bedroom door. She strained her sharp ears for any sounds at all, but only heard the occasional snore. "I think they all fell asleep again."  
  
She shut the door, but before she could turn around, Spike was pressing her against the door. She could feel his erection pressed against her thigh, and his breath tickled her ear as he spoke. "You're gonna have to make me leave now, Slayer."  
  
"I don't want you to leave."  
  
He caressed her stomach and then moved up and cupped her breast. "You sure?"  
  
She nodded and lifted her arms in an invitation. He obliged her by pulling her shirt over her head, leaving her as naked from the waist up as he was. He didn't step back from her though, and his body absorbed her heat. "You want me to do this, Slayer?" His lips fastened on the pulse point in her neck. She nodded as he sucked on her gently.  
  
"How about this?" He caressed her nipple, then pinched it slightly. She moaned in response. 'Oh, this is wrong. Very, very wrong.' Buffy thought, before she lost the ability for all logical reasoning. 'I **should** stop him.' But it was hard to be serious about the thought when he slipped under her shorts and ran his fingers lightly over her damp panties.  
  
"You're tense," his voice was deep and low. "Why are you tense Slayer?"  
  
"We shouldn't be doing this," she gasped as his hands continued to explore her body.  
  
"No?"  
  
"No."  
  
He slipped a finger under the silk cloth, through the damp curls, and into her hot flesh. He rubbed her clit slowly, steadily applying more pressure. "I could stop."  
  
"No," she gasped. "Don't..want..you to stop."  
  
"Want me to go faster?"  
  
She nodded and he moved against her faster. Her knees buckled and she braced herself against the door, pressing her bottom against him tighter. He groaned and grasped her hip with his free hand.  
  
"Harder," she moaned.  
  
He wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, then complied with her wishes. "Oh..oh god," she breathed as the orgasm shook her from her core. Her breathing was hard and fast and she felt slightly light headed. "I gotta sit down."  
  
He scooped her up and carried her over to the bed. He finished stripping her, then stepped back and removed his own pants. She reached for him, eager to feel his body again. She felt so cold and exposed, lying there before him. But he didn't move, just drank in her beauty, awed and thankful he even had the chance to see her like this, much less touch her.  
  
There were so many things he wanted do to her and with her. Things that he had been nearly obsessing over ever since the witch's stupid spell. Things that he never thought he would have the chance to do, never thought that she would even want. And yet here she was, offering herself to him, begging to touch him and be touched by him.  
  
She sat up slightly and grabbed his arm, pulling her to him. The kiss was white-hot with intensity and new desire flashed through her body, making her breathless. Sweat began to form on her neck, and she needed to be closer to him. She needed to be as close to him as possible. She wanted to be a part of him.  
  
"Want you now, Spike." She informed him and pulled him all the way on top of her.  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"You have to be quiet, Buffy. Won't do any good to wake up everybody in the house."  
  
She nodded and wrapped her legs around him, urging him forward. He smiled and licked her nipple, teasing it slightly with his teeth. She wiggled under him impatiently, and Spike could easily smell the heavy arousal rolling off of her in waves. The scent was heady and heavenly. He liked the feel of her wiggling body so much he bit her again. This time she moaned too, and he could sense the frustration building inside of her.  
  
He slid into her slowly, taking his time and giving her time to adjust to his size. She gasped as the most intense feelings of pleasure shot from her core to every part of her body. He was touching spots of her that she didn't even know existed, stretching her in ways that was painful but felt right. Soon, though, she didn't feel any of that pain at all.  
  
As he began to move faster, her harsh breathing turned to moans and then to quiet screams. He caught her mouth with his own to try to silence her, but it didn't work. She wrapped her legs and arms around him tighter and encouraged him to move faster. But he slowed down anyway and covered her mouth with his hand.  
  
"Buffy, love, you can't be so loud. They'll hear you."  
  
But it didn't matter, because now she was beyond noise. She felt like she couldn't get enough air. She was suffocating in this heady bliss that threatened to consume her completely. Sleeping with Riley had always been nice, but just that. Nice. Nothing like this. The feelings had suffused throughout her body, and she could feel every thrust in her toes, her fingers, her chest, everywhere.  
  
"Buffy, are you going to hyperventilate?" Spike sounded concern, but he didn't slow the rhythm he had set.  
  
Just as he spoke, it felt as though she was ripped in two then glued together again as one orgasm, then another, overtook her. She bit his shoulder, hard, in order to keep from shouting his name.  
  
Her inner-muscles clamped around him, and he lost it. She had smelt so good, felt so good, and the sounds she was making was like the sweetest music. His heart swelled when she collapsed back on the pillow, smiling yet completely exhausted.  
  
"Look at me," he rasped.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, and he was caught in their sweet, green depths as he came and his world narrowed to her face..her smile. He vowed he would never forget how she looked that night. She was perfect. His warrior, his mistress, his lover, his huntress, his love.  
  
He collapsed beside her, completely exhausted. "Sleep?" She asked. He could tell she was already half-way there.  
  
"Sleep," he agreed.  
  
*** Sleep. He remembered that face. But only in his dreams. 


	9. Chapter 9

"You had sex with Spike?" Angel asked slowly, as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth.  
  
"Well, yeah. What did you think this story would be about?"  
  
"But I can't believe you slept with him, I mean, weren't you still with Riley?"  
  
"I was," Buffy admitted. "Look, I'm not proud of this. I only told Willow about it, and even then I vagued it up a lot."  
  
"Did you ever tell Riley?"  
  
"No..things got ugly. But that comes later."  
  
"You had sex with Spike," he repeated.  
  
"Yes, now get over it. Or don't you want to hear the rest of the story?"  
  
Angel frowned, "I'm not sure if I want to hear about the Buffy/Spike sexcapades."  
  
Laughter erupted from Buffy, startling Angel. Even Spike jumped slightly. "Sexcapades?"  
  
"I've spent too much time with Cordy."  
  
"Obviously. I'll keep the details to a minimum," Buffy promised.  
  
"But why did you do it Buffy?"  
  
"What's with the questions? Do you want to hear the story or not?"  
  
"I want to know why you did it!"  
  
"I don't have to explain myself to you, Angel. Isn't it enough that I wanted to? I knew what I was doing, and I knew I could handle myself."  
  
"But you also know Spike, and you must have known that he wasn't going to take it lightly, or as a one night stand."  
  
"Who said I meant it as a one night stand?"  
  
"What about.."  
  
*** ".Riley's downstairs!" Willow called through Buffy's closed door.  
  
"What?" "Buffy, wake up. Riley is waiting downstairs. Should I send him up?"  
  
"No!" Buffy shouted, "I mean, I'll be right down."  
  
"I don't want to move," Spike said, sleep lacing his voice.  
  
Buffy was curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed, "Me neither. But I've got to get up."  
  
"What are you going to tell Captain Cardboard?"  
  
"Nothing." She felt Spike tense and pull away from her slightly.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Buffy! Can I come in?"  
  
"Oh, fuck. Quick, get in the closet."  
  
"I'm not hiding in the closet, Slayer."  
  
"Either you hide there now, or I'll deposit your dust there."  
  
Spike pushed her away from him and stood up, glaring at her. "Fine." He gathered his clothes and ducked into the closet just as Riley opened the door.  
  
"I came over as soon as I could after the debriefing," he announced as he stepped into the room.  
  
"Riley! You should have given me a few moments, I'm not dressed."  
  
"I like you better this way."  
  
Buffy smiled coyly and pulled the blanket further up. Did she look guilty? Did the bed looked like two supernatural beings had really hot sex, more than once? Were there any clues that Spike was in the room? She found herself thanking God that if she had to cheat on her boyfriend, it was with somebody who could hide in the dark closet indefinitely. Though when he finally came out, he'd probably be pretty pissed off.  
  
Buffy idly wondered if angry! Spike equaled really rough, good sex. She hoped so. Riley was never anything but gentle and considerate. It was nice at first, but sometimes she wanted to play a little. And she always had to be careful, because even though he was strong, he couldn't even begin to handle the things she could do with her muscles.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"Yeah, the doctors checked me out. They said I need some rest, maybe some TLC," he winked at her, "and I should be fine."  
  
"That's good. How did the debriefing go?"  
  
Riley sat down on the bed beside her, and she could feel, rather than hear, Spike growl. "Well, there is no more Initiative."  
  
"Is that of the good?"  
  
Riley shrugged, "Well, since I wasn't part of it anymore anyway, I guess it doesn't make a big difference."  
  
She embraced him, "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
'Sleeping with Spike,' she thought. Though was she, really? "That everything got destroyed."  
  
"Maybe that's for the best, in the end. I still can't believe Professor Walsh.."  
  
"I know, I don't think any of us could. Have you gotten any sleep?"  
  
He shook his head, "No, I came right over here when we were through."  
  
"Well, why don't you go shower and I'll make you something to eat, then you can ge some sleep."  
  
He smiled, "Sounds good. You're the best girlfriend ever."  
  
She returned his smile, "I try."  
  
Buffy handed Riley the pair of sweats and a t-shirt he kept at her place, then gently pushed him out the door. As soon as she closed it behind Riley, Spike stepped out of the closet.  
  
"Well, aren't we the sweet little housewife," he sneered.  
  
"I couldn't let him think something was up."  
  
"What are you going to make to eat? Cause, Slayer, really, you should be kept out of the kitchen."  
  
"Shut Spike, and get dressed. You need to get out of here before Riley comes back."  
  
"I can't leave the house, Slayer. And I don't know if you want all your friends to see me leaving your room."  
  
"Then what do you want to do? Spend the rest of the day in the closet?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "Get rid of soldier boy, and we can spend the rest of the day in bed."  
  
"No, Spike, you need to get out of here."  
  
"Ok." Spike moved to open the door.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"You just told me to get out."  
  
"Put on your clothes first."  
  
Spike quickly dressed and then opened the door..and saw Riley standing in the hallway, his hair still dripping.  
  
They stared at each for a long moment, Buffy standing behind Spike, her face turning a bright red.  
  
"Good morning," Spike greeted pleasantly.  
  
"What are you doing coming out of Buffy's room?" Riley asked, his voice calm and measured.  
  
"Spent the night here, mate."  
  
Buffy was absolutely mortified and vowed that she would kill Spike with Mr. Pointy. But it was tempting to lop off his head. After she cut off other body parts.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Slept in the basement, mate. Just came upstairs to see if the Slayer was awake."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Wanted to talk to her."  
  
"Yeah, but obviously, I don't want to talk to him right now, so I told him to leave," Buffy added.  
  
Riley sighed, "Whatever. I'm not going to fight with you over this anymore, Buffy. Hostile 17 is no longer any of my concern..or really anybody's since the Initiative has been destroyed."  
  
Riley moved past Spike and he obligingly stepped out of the way. "Don't worry about cooking anything, Buffy, I'm beat."  
  
As soon as the door clicked behind them, Buffy turned to Spike. "Ok, that was close."  
  
Spike wanted to ask why it matter, why couldn't she just tell the ex- soldier that she was with him now. Not that mattered though, not as long as she kept sleeping with him. He wasn't the one with a conscious to bother him.  
  
"Uh huh. I think I'll go get some sleep in the basement."  
  
"Ok, you need anything?"  
  
"You can come downstairs and make sure I'm comfortable," Spike suggested.  
  
Buffy smiled, "I could, but I won't. No more of that today."  
  
"What about tonight?"  
  
She stepped forward and kissed him, "Maybe." 


	10. Chapter 10

Neither Buffy nor Angel noticed when Spike opened his eyes. They were both too wrapped up in her memories. His eyes were clear, free of fog, and focused. In that moment, he knew exactly who he was, and whom he was with, though he didn't recognize the room. He heard and understood the Slayer clearly. She was talking about the first time they had made love-fucked.  
  
She had made him hide in the closet. That's when he knew, and understood clearly. Spike wasn't stupid, though he had pulled more than his fair share of stupid stunts. She may not have realized what she was doing then, but Spike did. She was going to have her normal life if it killed her in the process..even if she was fucking the undead.  
  
Now he listened to her descriptively explain the whole thing to her other ex-lover like she was telling him about a movie she had seen.  
  
He must have made a noise, or maybe she just caught his blue eyes out of the corner of her green ones, because she jumped completely off the bed in the middle of her story. "Spike! You're awake."  
  
Spike turned his attention away from her. His memories were still fuzzy and a little vague, but he remembered enough. He didn't want to talk to her.  
  
"Spike?" Her voice was quiet now, tentative. He didn't look her way.  
  
"Spike, are you with us?" Angel's voice was gentle. Spike didn't respond. "William?" A hint of brogue emerged.  
  
"Spike, please talk to me. Let me know what's going on," Buffy pleaded.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Angel asked.  
  
He wasn't, but he nodded anyway. As soon as Angel left to get blood, Buffy reached out to touch Spike. He shied away from her. Buffy sighed. "Where have you been Spike?"  
  
"Dirty," he croaked.  
  
"I didn't mean it, Spike."  
  
Angel entered the room followed by a green demon. "Buffy, you've met Lorne."  
  
"Good to see you again."  
  
"You too, cupcake."  
  
"I thought maybe Lorne could help us figure out what's wrong with Spike," Angel explained.  
  
"Hey Handsome, can you sing for me."  
  
Spike stared at him, not responsive.  
  
"Maybe you can hum for me," Lorne suggested.  
  
Spike tonelessly hummed a few bars of an old drinking tune. Lorne's eyes widened, "Uh, Angel, can I talk to you..."  
  
*** "..alone?"  
  
"We can't be alone, I'm here with people, Spike."  
  
"You can sneak away for a minute. Let's pretend you're slaying a vampire."  
  
"I will be in a few minutes, if he won't leave me be."  
  
"Ahhh, Slayer, you don't mean that." Spike grinned wickedly and Buffy felt her resolve shake. "Come outside with me."  
  
"No."  
  
Spike took her hand, "Yes." The sound was almost a purr, almost a growl, and Buffy didn't have the willpower to resist it.  
  
"They'll miss me," she pointed out, but it was a token protest.  
  
"You won't be gone for long," he promised.  
  
"I'm expecting Riley."  
  
"We'll make sure he doesn't catch the show, if that's what you're worried about."  
  
She allowed herself to be lead out the back door of the Bronze to the alley. "Where have you been Spike?"  
  
He shrugged, "Busy."  
  
"You think you can disappear then show up and demand a quickie in a back alley?"  
  
"You want me to stop?" He was currently kissing her neck.  
  
"No."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
"You haven't been causing trouble, have you?"  
  
"Slayer, anybody ever tell you talk too much?"  
  
"Hey..oooh, yes. That feels good."  
  
"I know."  
  
Buffy really wanted to stop the arrogant vampire. Who did he think he was? Just because they had wild, hot sex a dozen or so times did not mean that he could just lure her out of the Bronze and away from her friends. But if she stopped him, she would just be punishing herself, and that wouldn't do.  
  
Buffy fumbled with his zipper with one hand while she hiked up her skirt with the other. Spike's hands were all over her, lighting up her body.  
  
"Miss me, luv?"  
  
Buffy didn't answer. She didn't want to talk, she just wanted him inside of her. She didn't realize how much she wanted him until he was there, separated only by rough denim, straining against his fly.  
  
Spike stopped touching her, and moved back slightly. "Did you miss me luv?" He asked again.  
  
"What? Yes."  
  
At that point she would agree to anything if only he would finish what he started. She was painfully aroused. She was going to go crazy if he stopped.  
  
"Say it."  
  
Buffy blinked. "I missed you Spike," she breathed, finding it difficult to force words out of her throat. "I missed you so much."  
  
"Glad to hear it." He braced himself and then quickly entered her. She moaned with relief and moved against him, forcing him deeper. She buried her face in his neck to muffle the sounds escaping, unbidden, from her throat.  
  
"Oh Buffy, oh god Slayer, oh god. You feel so good Buffy," Spike whispered into her ear. The sound of his deep voice nearly pushed her over the edge. She felt like she hadn't had sex in months, but she was just with Riley the night before. At the thought of Riley, a stab of guilt pierced her heart. She shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't have started this. She should end it.  
  
Her movements slowed as her guilt built. Fuck, what was she doing? She shouldn't let him do this to her, shouldn't allow it.  
  
"What's wrong Slayer," he asked quietly without breaking his rhythm.  
  
She shook her head. Now was not the time for the conversation, and her treacherous body refused to let her tell him to stop. Spike knew the problem anyway. He always knew what was on her mind.  
  
He pushed her head from his shoulder, and cupped her chin in his hand. Now he stopped moving inside of her. He looked her in the eyes for several seconds, then kissed her passionately. It took her breath away, and she was reminded of their first night when she couldn't even breath the pleasure was so intense. When he moved his lips from hers and began trailing them down her chin and neck, the doubts and guilt fled her mind. She began rocking against him, and Spike picked up the rhythm like he never stopped.  
  
Several minutes later, Buffy was frantically trying to rearrange her clothes and hair. "Do I look presentable?"  
  
Spike was casually leaning against the wall and smoking. "You look delicious."  
  
Buffy sighed, "Do I look like I just fucked a vampire in an alley?"  
  
Spike flicked his cigarette and turned to walk away. "No." Then he was gone. Buffy frowned. What did she say? She didn't want to see him go, but she couldn't call out to him either. She was sure she would run into him..  
  
*** ".later." Angel insisted.  
  
Buffy looked over her shoulder at Spike laying on his bed. His eyes were still clear, but he still insisted on avoiding her gaze.  
  
She shut the door quietly and faced him in the hallway. "I want to know now."  
  
"Buffy, I think you should wait."  
  
"Wait for what?"  
  
"Until Spike knows what Lorne saw."  
  
"Fine, where's Lorne?"  
  
"He should be here soon. Try to be a little patient."  
  
"Patience has never been my strong suit," Buffy said crossing her arms.  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Won't talk to me, won't look at me."  
  
Lorne arrived just as Angel was about to ask another question, and Buffy sighed with relief. She didn't want to talk about it right now. It hurt in places that she didn't know could hurt. And she knew it was all her fault.  
  
"Is he still awake?" Lorne asked.  
  
"Yeah. I think so."  
  
"I'll just be a few minutes," he promised as he opened the door.  
  
*** Spike eyed the green demon warily. "Well, Handsome, anything you want to tell me?"  
  
Spike didn't respond.  
  
"I'm kinda curious about how you got it."  
  
Nothing.  
  
Lorne sighed and sat down, "The silent-type huh? That's ok. You're in trouble, and you need help. You think it's the soul, and that's partially right. Whatever trials you had to go through to get it isn't over yet. You haven't completed your final test."  
  
"What is it?" Spike's voice was barely a whisper.  
  
"You've still got to face your greatest fear, Spike. I don't think you need me to tell you what that is."  
  
Spike shook his head.  
  
"Anyway, once you finish the test the soul will settle permanently, and your mind will come back together."  
  
"Broken?"  
  
"It is, in a way," Lorne's voice was gentle. "Anyway, you want me to bring in the other two? They are pretty worried about you."  
  
Spike turned his head away. "Alone."  
  
"I understand," Lorne said, standing. "If you need anything, give a holler."  
  
Spike nodded, closed his eyes, and appeared to fall asleep. Lorne left the room quietly. 


	11. Chapter 11

Spike lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and listening to Angel and Buffy talk outside his door. He was back. He knew who he was and what was going on. But he didn't have all of his memories. They were slowly washing over him, in sepia colors. He didn't want to see or talk to anybody until he was settled, until everything wasn't so confusing and uncertain.  
  
He did recall the trials for his soul. He vaguely remembered what the old woman and told him after he woke up from his pain-induced coma. He still had one more thing to do, and until he did it, he wouldn't be whole. Spike had been too tired to understand the urgency of this final test, and by the time he did, it was too late.  
  
But somehow he was back. It must have had something to do with Buffy. Which meant she was his final trial. He was lost and confused without her, operating on auto-pilot, with no concept of the past or the future. But now he knew, and with each minute he remembered a bit more. With each passing minute he wished he could escape back to the dark recesses of his mind. It wasn't so painful there. It was the coward's way out, but Spike wasn't feeling very brave at the moment.  
  
He wondered how he made it as far as L.A. The last place he actually remembered was in the middle of Africa. Somehow he had managed to travel half-way around the world without being aware of it. He also wondered how long he had been gone. There was absolutely no way for him to tell, he'd have to ask somebody. Which would mean actually talking to somebody, which he did not want to do at this point. Or ever, really.  
  
Los Angeles was a big city. There were demons, vampires, and demon hunters. Plenty of chances to run into the wrong crowd and get killed. There was an excellent chance that you could drive through the entire city and never run into a familiar face. Yet somehow he survived the Big Bad City and furthermore, found Angel. Just his luck.  
  
He hoped they would leave him alone for the rest of the night, at least. He needed his.  
  
*** "..privacy?" Buffy demanded.  
  
"No, not really," Spike responded, casually flipping through her diary.  
  
"That's it, I'm going to kill you."  
  
"Over a little thing like reading your diary?" Spike asked, pausing to read a passage.  
  
Buffy ripped it out of his hands, "It's not a little thing, Spike. You can't just go around reading people's diaries!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because it's wrong."  
  
"You're very predictable."  
  
"Spike." Her voice held more than just a hint of warning.  
  
"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what you're thinking if I don't read your diary?"  
  
"Spike, this isn't the first time, is it?"  
  
"First time for what?" He was all big-eyed innocence.  
  
"You're read my diary before." It wasn't a question.  
  
"Well, yes," he admitted, averting his eyes.  
  
She sighed and weighed her options. She could knock him out, kill him, or fuck him. He didn't deserve to be fucked, and she really didn't feel like vacuuming up his ashes, so she settled for punching him in the nose.  
  
"Hey, Slayer! Watch it."  
  
"Spike, damnit, you're getting off easy here. How long have you been reading it?"  
  
"Couple of weeks now," he muttered. He had at least looked ashamed of himself. But for all she knew, it was an act.  
  
Buffy didn't say anything, just sank onto the bed, her face a bright red. She had three journals. One was her Slayer journal, the other one was fake, and then there was the third one. The one Spike was reading. In it she wrote everything about her life, how she felt, her deepest and darkest secrets. It was meant for her eyes only, and she actually had plans of burning it so nobody would find it after her death. She had tears of humiliation in her eyes.  
  
Spike moved towards her. "Oh, are you crying Slayer? Don't cry...please."  
  
She sniffed and rubbed her face, "I'm not crying."  
  
He kneeled in front of her, "I didn't meant to upset you, Buffy. I just wanted to know more about you, is all."  
  
"Why didn't you just ask me?"  
  
"You wouldn't have told me."  
  
"Maybe because I didn't want you to know."  
  
"Do you want anybody to know?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Spike pointed to the diary, now lying on the bed beside her. "You haven't told your friends about that stuff."  
  
"You haven't told the soldier either."  
  
She shook her head, letting her long hair fall forward and hide her face. Spike reached up and gently pushed it back. "You can tell me."  
  
Buffy looked up at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He was looking at her intently, his blue eyes dark and serious. His face was open and caring, and for the first time since she met him, he seemed patient, like he could wait for the answer. She wanted to talk to him, she needed to talk to somebody because sometimes it felt like she might drown under the weight of everything.  
  
"I don't know how." It sounded lame to her ears, like a stupid excuse. But she couldn't explain it any other way.  
  
Spike nodded, "I know it's hard to open up. But you can trust me, Buffy."  
  
Could she really trust him? She trusted him with her body nearly every night, could she go as far as confide in him? Wouldn't that change the nature of their relationship though? She could deal with the guilt of messing around behind Riley's back because it was just sex. She could justify it. But if she started talking to Spike, started opening up, how could she justify it then? He wouldn't just a glorified sex toy anymore.. he'd be a person.  
  
"Where should I start?" She whispered.  
  
"Why are you with me? Why do you allow me to touch you like this?" His fingers lightly caressed her breasts.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Buffy, you do too."  
  
"Well, if you know what it is, why are you asking?"  
  
"I want you to say it."  
  
"Why does it matter so much to you?"  
  
"Buffy, it's not about me. It's about you. You have to learn how to open up and let people in."  
  
"It hurts to let people in."  
  
"Sometimes," Spike conceded, "But your friends and your mother loves you, they would never betray you."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"You know I wouldn't."  
  
"That's not what I'm asking."  
  
"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you."  
  
"You're the one who wants to be open. So answer me."  
  
"What was the question again?"  
  
Buffy growled in frustration, "Do you love me?" It was an insane question to ask, Buffy knew that. It wouldn't change anything, but it would change absolutely everything. And didn't she already suspect he answer anyway, or else she never would have asked?  
  
"You answer my question first."  
  
Fair enough. "I sleep with you because I want you. And because I don't have to hide anything from you. The others wanted me to be a girl, but with you I can be a girl, a slayer, and a woman. You accept all of me, and I need that."  
  
It was a short speech, but her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. It took so much to make that one simple confession, and she couldn't look at him as she waited for his reaction.  
  
Spike watched her for several seconds, his heart in his throat. He had seen glimpses of her vulnerable side before. At first it made him uncomfortable, but now that he knew her a bit better, he was thrilled by her hesitant confession. He wanted her confidence more than anything, and it occurred to him that reading her diary wasn't the best way to go about that. But maybe it would force her to talk to him, and that was worth her anger.  
  
"Oh Buffy," he said softly, "I make you feel all those things because I love you."  
  
Part of her already knew it, but she was still surprised when he said. Could soulless vampires love? She didn't know. She always thought that they couldn't. Angel couldn't love her without a soul. Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because Spike was intently watching her with apprehension. "I don't know what to say to that," she finally whispered. "I don't know how to respond."  
  
Spike leaned forward until his lips were just a breath away from hers. "You don't have to say anything."  
  
"I don't know what it means.." She said helplessly.  
  
"Let me show you."  
  
She nodded and stretched out on the bed, waiting for him to touch her. He whispered as he leaned over her, "I still want you to..  
  
*** ".talk to me?" Buffy demanded.  
  
Spike didn't answer. She pulled him out of his reverie, reliving that memory was sweet. He had been so worried that Buffy would kick him out of her room, her life, if he pushed her. And he was afraid she would laugh if he told her he loved her.  
  
She didn't exactly react with joy to that revelation, but she hadn't laughed either. It was enough to give him bittersweet hope.  
  
"Spike, please, you can't just ignore me forever."  
  
She was right, he couldn't. But he could ignore her for the rest of the night. It wouldn't do any good to simply tell her he wanted to be left alone. She sat beside the bed, staring at him, waiting for him to respond to her somehow. Maybe if he gave her a crumb she would be satisfied and let him alone.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"How long have you been gone? Ten years."  
  
Spike blinked in surprise. Ten years? No, he couldn't believe that. How could he have been lost in his own blank mind for ten years? How was that possible?  
  
"It seems longer than that though," she continued, "I missed you so much Spike. I really have."  
  
He didn't doubt it. Nobody could touch her like he could. But that was all she missed. She had said as much before he even left. Did he really go get a soul for her? With a newfound objectivity, the notion seemed quite stupid. What the hell had he been thinking? Obviously not much of anything.  
  
"Spike, is it alright if Lorne tells me what he saw? He doesn't want to breach your privacy." Spike really didn't care. "Don't care."  
  
"Spike..will you come with me? To Sunnydale?"  
  
Why was she asking him this? Why would he want to go anywhere with her? Didn't she know she had destroyed him, made him insane? Didn't she care that she broke his heart and his mind, and maybe he couldn't deal with her anymore? He didn't respond.  
  
"Ok, will you think about it? Spike, I want to help you get better."  
  
" 'm fine."  
  
"No, you're not." Buffy got closer to the bed, almost touching him. He didn't have the energy to move away from her, though he wanted to. "I still remember when you helped me get better. I never thanked you properly for that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The night you told me you loved me. It was so different, so..  
  
*** ".gentle."  
  
"I can be gentle," he said, smiling.  
  
"I didn't know that."  
  
"You never let me show you. You're scared."  
  
"I'm not scared of you," Buffy denied.  
  
"I never said you were scared of me."  
  
Buffy was laying against Spike, her butt pressed against his semi-erect cock, her head resting on his arm. He was rubbing her lightly with his fingers, tracing the side of her body. They were facing the window, and Buffy was watching the way the moonbeams danced in and around the clouds.  
  
"I never let you do this either. Hold me."  
  
"I've always wanted to."  
  
She sighed, "I know. But this.this is different, Spike. It's moving our relationship in a direction that frightens me."  
  
They laid in comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Her naked skin glowed in the silver light, and Spike delighted in the way her long, golden hair reflected the pale light. Truth be told, he delighted in her entire body. It was magnificent, and every time she allowed him to touch her, kiss her, fuck her, it was like a precious gift.  
  
He sighed and felt rather content. He had made love to her before, but she never really wanted it like that. Tonight though, she had really wanted it, almost begged for it. She was opening up to him, trusting him more and more.  
  
"What time is it?" Her voice was thick, and her breath was slowing. He knew she was going to drift to sleep soon.  
  
"A little past 10, actually. We got an early start tonight."  
  
She jumped and sat up. "Shit."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I..I came home to change. Patrolling and a date."  
  
"So what? You wanna go patrol?"  
  
"Well, I promised Riley I'd meet him.."  
  
"No, Buffy."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No, you aren't running away. Not tonight."  
  
"You can't force me to stay," she said coldly, pulling away from him.  
  
"If you leave this bed to go to him, that's it. I'm not coming back."  
  
"Spike.." She was getting angry now. That was fine with him. "You know the deal."  
  
"And what's the deal Buffy? You are leading two lives now, and you won't be able to keep it up. You stay with me tonight."  
  
"You think I'll just choose you? You think I don't want what Riley is offering me?"  
  
"I don't care what you want Slayer. You're going to stay here, with me, tonight."  
  
"Spike, you can't just tell me what to do," she protested.  
  
"You are staying here," his voice was low, his words measured and clipped. Buffy finally felt how tense he was, could sense his anger. Whatever was on his mind, was it really worth fighting over? It's not like she needed to see Riley. But at the same time, she didn't want to give in and let him think he could just boss her around whenever he felt like it.  
  
"Why do you want me to stay?"  
  
"We still need to talk."  
  
"I don't.." I don't want to talk, she was going to say, but she didn't think Spike was too concerned about what she wanted.  
  
"Tough shit, Princess."  
  
"You know, you aren't being very pleasant."  
  
"If you lay back down, I can't be very pleasant."  
  
She sighed, but relaxed against him. There was no use fighting him when he got like his, he was surprisingly stubborn.  
  
"Fine, what do you want to talk.."  
  
*** ".about?" Spike asked.  
  
"You made me talk, Spike. You made me open up. It changed me."  
  
Spike shrugged, and looked unconcerned. "It won't change me." 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
"Have you heard from your sister?" Xander asked.  
  
"She's going to be in L.A. until Spike's well enough to travel," Dawn said without looking up from the newspaper.  
  
"Spike's coming back here?" Xander asked, confusion lacing his words.  
  
She shrugged, "It sounds like he doesn't want to, but you know how Buffy can be. She's awfully.  
  
*** ".stubborn as a bloody ox!" Spike exclaimed.  
  
"I'm not stubborn," Buffy protested. "You're the stubborn one."  
  
"You are stubborn and childish."  
  
Buffy stuck her tongue out and stomped her foot.  
  
"See! You just proved my point, stamping that cute little foot of yours."  
  
Buffy was temporarily distracted from the argument. "You think I have cute feet?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, "You have cute everything. Now don't try to change the subject."  
  
"I'm not changing the subject! Look, if it means so much to you, we don't have to watch Dracula."  
  
"I don't even know why you want to watch that stupid movie anyway. Wasn't the real deal enough for you?"  
  
"Oh, that reminds me, Drac says hi."  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes, "Did he happen to give you my eleven pounds? Blood welsher."  
  
"Why didn't you show up to get your money back yourself?"  
  
"Thought I'd stay out of Captain America's way. He came and visited me, ya know."  
  
Buffy frowned, "When?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "The day after Count Vlad," he spat the word, "showed up."  
  
"Did he.I mean, was he.."  
  
"Was he suspicious? No, didn't suspect a thing, Princess. Your dirty little secret is safe."  
  
Buffy could tell that she just pissed him off. She sighed as she tried to think of a way to cheer him up. "We don't have to watch a movie," she offered.  
  
"What do you want to do then?"  
  
"Patrol? Get a spot of violence before bed?"  
  
"I can think of other things we could do," he said with a predatory grin as his arms snaked around her.  
  
"Oooh, like what?"  
  
Spike brushed her hair away from her face and moved in to kiss her neck, but then he froze. "What's this?"  
  
Oh. Shit. "I feel on a barbeque fork," she offered lamely.  
  
"You let Dracula bite you," he said slowly.  
  
"I didn't let him! He had me under a thrall."  
  
Spike let go of her and step back. "You know what they call you around town? The Vampire Layer. You keep this shit up, and any vamp within 100 miles will think you're available," he said coldly.  
  
Buffy gasped, "Spike. My mother invited him in, that's how he got into my bedroom. He had me under a thrall."  
  
"You wanted to be bit, it wouldn't have worked otherwise."  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"Slayer, please. I'm not your stupid soldier; I know the deal. Now get out."  
  
"Spike, please..we haven't spent any time together for like weeks!"  
  
"And whose fault is that, Slayer? Not mine. I'm not doing anything but hanging around and waiting for you. You're the one who is always too busy for me."  
  
Buffy watched him for several seconds. His feelings were hurt. She could tell that Dracula's bite was a very big deal. He usually avoided the scar Angel left at all costs, and while he never asked if he could bite her, he did vamp out occasionally during sex. But what could she do? It's not like she could explain away his bite to Riley. 'You could always break up with Riley,' a voice whispered. But could she really? Wouldn't that be admitting defeat, admitting that she was destined to be in relationships with dead men? She couldn't let her life come to that. That place is just too...dark. And wrong. Dracula's words rushed back to her and she took an involuntary step back, as though she was trying to get away from the unpleasant thoughts.  
  
"I have to go," she muttered.  
  
"Of course you do, Slayer." Sarcasm dripped from his words, and he turned his back to her. She felt the need to defend herself.  
  
"My mom asked him to come home early and keep an eye on.  
  
*** ".Dawn has almost completed her Master's degree," Buffy continued. "You would have been so proud of her. Between the scholarships and other financial aid, I could afford to send her to school in England. It was safer than UC Sunnydale, and she wanted to study theater so.."  
  
Buffy paused her narration and sighed. Spike hadn't reacted to anything, not even to the stories about Dawn. They had been so close, and he missed a major part of her life, but he didn't even seem interested.  
  
She decided to switch tactics. "Lorne told me about your soul. How did you get it, Spike?"  
  
"Earned it."  
  
Buffy beamed. He responded. He was talking to her. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "How?"  
  
"I don't remember."  
  
"What do you remember?"  
  
"Vampires are dirty." There was no emotion in his voice when he said it, and she winced at how distant his eyes looked.  
  
"Why does he keep saying that?" Angel asked from the doorway.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Buffy. Lies."  
  
"I..Give me time to explain it Angel."  
  
"You can't avoid it forever."  
  
"I know." She glanced at Spike, "Do you want us to leave?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Fine. Come on Angel."  
  
*** Spike closed his eyes as she left. He collapsed onto his chair and tilted his head back. She let that goddamned poser bite her. She forced Angel to bite her. But she would never let him get that close.  
  
This sitting around, defenseless and lonely, was wearing on him. He was sick of playing by her rules..sick of Captain Cardboard strutting around like he owned the fucking place because he got to shag the Slayer and let the world know it. He was sick of being the vague, dirty secret in her life.  
  
He knew what he was signing up for when they started sleeping together. But some nights he thought they were getting close, actually starting some form of relationship not based on desperate sex in the dark and secret places of the city. Then she would rip it out from under him. This time it was by letting Dracula bite her. Same shit, different day really.  
  
He needed to get the chip out. That was just all there was to it. He was waiting around for crumbs and scraps, but she would never treat him like a man, and he was quickly losing self-respect and dignity.  
  
He lit a cigarette and enjoyed the fragrant smoke that floated around his head. He fantasized alternately of shagging, fighting, and killing the Slayer. With a sigh of disgust, he realized that even in his killing fantasies, he never actually went through it. If he got the chip out, she would try to kill him. But at least if they were fighting again, she would recognize him as a worthy opponent, and no matter how briefly, she'd be forced to respect him again.  
  
"Spikey? Blondie-bear?"  
  
Spike jumped, he hadn't even heard her come in. "What are you doing here, Harmony?" He growled.  
  
"Just letting you know that I'm back in town, and I have minions. And a plan. To kill the Slayer."  
  
"Really? That's fascinating, pet, but you're stealing my song." He lit another cigarette, "Now get out before I throw you out."  
  
"Fine, I didn't want to have sex anyway!"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Harm, wait a tic. You can stay."  
  
"Goodie," she squealed, jumping on his lap.  
  
"Harm, you want to help me get my.."  
  
*** "..chip out?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait. He teamed up with Harmony to get his chip out?"  
  
"Yeah. Look, it wasn't exactly an example of Spike thinking clearly."  
  
"Did he succeed?"  
  
"No, but he nearly killed Riley in the process of trying. And he tried to."  
  
"Tried to what?"  
  
"Bite me."  
  
Angel gaped, "As in, kill you? Or just mark you?"  
  
Buffy shook her head sadly, "I still don't know to this day what his intentions were."  
  
"And you didn't stake."  
  
*** ".him?" Riley demanded.  
  
"It all worked out in the end," Buffy said, then wish she hadn't said anything at all.  
  
"He tried to kill me!"  
  
"Not directly." Goddamnit, when would she learn to keep her mouth shut?  
  
"Buffy, what the fuck is wrong with you? He almost got his chip out today, if it was gone, he would have killed you!"  
  
"I know," she muttered. She didn't push him away, couldn't fight him off, because she was simply too shocked. She shouldn't have been fighting him in that tiny doctor's office, while her boyfriend's heart was about to give out. She shouldn't have been fighting him at all. He wasn't her enemy anymore. He betrayed Adam for her. He loved her, treated her like something unique and precious. Was she really so naïve that he tricked her into thinking that he loved her?  
  
Buffy shook her head at her own stupidity. Maybe vampires could love, but they were still soulless. She never should have trusted him. And now she would have to dust him, though she literally shook at the thought.  
  
"I'll go take care of it now," she said, "while the sun's up. He'll be asleep..not expecting it."  
  
She left Riley without waiting for his response and walked blindly to the crypt. She prayed that he was alone, because she would die if Harmony was in his bed. How could he sleep with somebody else?  
  
When she entered the crypt, he was alone. Not asleep. Waiting for her.  
  
"You came sooner than I expected, luv," he said conversationally.  
  
"You tried to bite me," she said numbly.  
  
"Yeah, I sure did," he agreed, not a trace of regret or apology in his voice.  
  
"Your chip.." Buffy closed her eyes. She didn't love him, couldn't love him, but all of a sudden she thought her heart was breaking. How could he do this to her? How could he make her kill her lover again? Didn't he care about her in the slightest?  
  
He got up then, she didn't open her eyes but could sense him standing within touching distance. "Why?" She whispered.  
  
"Buffy. Slayer, I can't live like this anymore." His voice was soft now.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Your leashed lapdog. You won't have me and nobody else wants me."  
  
"So you decided to turn into a mad killer again?"  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"So you could tear me apart." It wasn't a question. She made him hate her so much that he wanted to kill her. Oh God.  
  
"No, no Buffy. I don't.." Spike paused. Was he going to reassure her that he didn't want to kill her? Then what was up with trying to bite her? "I don't want you to die. I don't want to kill you." "I want to believe you, Spike. I really do. But this..Spike.." She had a choice then. Let the power of the Slayer fill her with icy resolve and finish the job, or break down and let him know exactly how much he had hurt her. He was always encouraging her to talk about her feelings, but she couldn't trust him anymore. This wasn't something you could just talk out.  
  
"How could you be so selfish?" She finally asked.  
  
"Me? You are the one sleeping with two guys right now, pulling us both by our short hairs, holding out a part of yourself until we're both helpless and begging." His words stung her deeply.  
  
"You were going to make me kill you. How could you do that? Do you think I enjoy killing my lovers?"  
  
"You knew the risk when you started shagging me, Slayer."  
  
"Yeah," she said weakly, "I did. I was stupid. I thought I could trust you."  
  
Those words effectively ripped out his heart. He couldn't keep up the Big Bad façade anymore, he couldn't act like he didn't care, like he wanted to hurt her. He was extremely angry when he decided to get the chip out, and he did something rash. Story of his life. But maybe he could fix this.  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry. I was angry, I wasn't thinking. I won't do this to you again."  
  
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "You can't."  
  
"I don't want to regret this, Spike. I don't want to regret being with you or letting you live."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"I..I need time to think. Just.stay away from me while I think about all of this."  
  
"Ok." He could promise to leave her alone, but he wouldn't stop watching her. Had to have her back, after all.  
  
"Goodbye Spike." She walked out and Spike was left by himself to curse his own stupidity and try to figure out what he could do to make it up to her. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
"Spike, we're going back to Sunnydale tonight," Buffy announced. She simply couldn't stay away from her obligations in Sunnydale another day. People depended on her, she had a job, and Dawn was visiting but she wouldn't be staying for long. Xander had called and sounded bewildered and frustrated and practically begged her to come home and help him.  
  
He sighed, "I don't have a choice in the matter?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Buffy walked around the room, straightening up. There was garbage and dirty mugs everywhere. Nobody had been very concerned with keeping the place straightened the past few days. Her number one concern was Spike and Angel had his own life to lead.  
  
"So," she said, trying to start a conversation, "should I call you William."  
  
"No. Why would you do that?"  
  
"Well, I just thought since you have a soul.."  
  
"I'm still Spike," he said harshly, "still a vampire."  
  
"I know," she said quietly, "I was just trying to.."  
  
"To what?"  
  
"Talk to you! For Christ's sake, Spike! You used to talk constantly, I couldn't shut you up. Your favorite subject was yourself, and now I can't get you to string more than five words together."  
  
"Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone. Bitch." He said, counting each word off his hand. "There's six."  
  
Buffy didn't take his words personally. Once she had taken everything he said to heart, even if she tried to act like the words didn't affect her much. But she had heard worse, said worse, in the past ten years then he could ever dish out.  
  
"Anyway, if we leave tonight you'll be able to see Dawn. She really is looking forward to seeing you again."  
  
A slight smile touched his face and then disappeared. But Buffy saw it, and her heart soared. He still cared about them.  
  
"Can I have a piece of paper?" Spike asked. "And a pen."  
  
"Sure," she responded brightly, "I'll be right back."  
  
When she returned, she handed the requested items to him with a smile. "So, do you still write..  
  
*** ".poems?" She asked incredulously. "You were a poet?"  
  
Spike mentally slapped himself for sharing that piece of information with her. Any second now she would start laughing at him, and he didn't know if he could take that. He missed her so much the past few weeks, and sitting across from her over a plate of hot-wings, he felt oddly vulnerable. She wanted to know about him, so he would be honest with her completely, for once, and tell her what she wanted to know.  
  
"Yeah, what of it?"  
  
"Can I read something?"  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes and looked at her closely, trying to find mockery or insincerity on her face. But she looked like she was honestly curious about what he wrote. "Maybe. Anyway, William was a right git, and he thought he could read his poetry to the woman he loved and she would fall into his arms, declaring her undying love."  
  
"And that's not what happened?" Buffy asked.  
  
Spike snorted, "Of course not. The chit wasn't impressed with him at all." It was easier for Spike to talk as though William was a man, long dead, who didn't relive this pain. Buffy thought that the person died, that the demon who inhabited the body was completely separate. She assumed that William was not the man who sat before her, full of his own insecurity, and Spike chose to believe that as well. It was easier that way to push away the lingering pain, easier to be a swaggering, evil Big Bad who didn't have feelings. It was easier to simply distance himself from the events of that fateful night, and to let Buffy think the rejection and humiliation no longer stung him to his very core.  
  
Easier all around.  
  
"She told him that he was.." But Spike couldn't even the force the actual quote out of his mouth. "Not good enough. He left the party, angry and humiliated. Ran right out of her warm arms into the cold waiting arms of his fate." So much for the poet being dead, Spike thought wryly.  
  
Spike left out all the things Drusilla said. Buffy wouldn't understand the comment about the burning baby fishes anyway. After spending a century with her, Spike had his suspicions about what she had been babbling about, but it wasn't anything he wanted to get into with the Slayer.  
  
"So, you traded up the food chain. Then what?"  
  
"No, please. Don't make it sound like something you'd flip past on the Discovery Channel. Becoming a vampire is a profound and powerful experience. I could feel this new strength coursing through me. Getting killed made me feel alive for the very first time. I was through living by society's rules. Decided to make a few of my own."  
  
Buffy looked less than impressed and Spike sighed. He loved her, but sometimes she could be rather dense. "Angelus and Darla hated me. Made too much noise, I did. Angelus wasn't happy to just kill and feed, he had to stalk, torture, and torment. Called killing an art." Spike paused and studied her for a minute, "Death's your art too, isn't Slayer? You make it with your hands every day."  
  
Buffy glared at him but didn't interrupt. "It was twenty years later that we went to China and I met my first..  
  
*** ".Slayer!"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, "Don't be such a big baby."  
  
"Don't try to read stuff over my shoulder," he snapped. "It's none of your business."  
  
"I just wanted to see what you were so intent on."  
  
"If I wanted you to know, I would have told you myself."  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is. It's not like I read your diary," she said sweetly.  
  
Spike glared at her, "I apologized for that. And if you really must know, I'm writing to Angel."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Goddamnit Slayer, go bother somebody else for awhile, ok?"  
  
She frowned at his tone, "Look I'm sorry. I'll be back in a little while, sunset is in about two hours."  
  
"Fine."  
  
Spike stared intently at the paper, trying to decide if he really wanted to do this. Angel seemed happy with his lot in life. He was happiest tormented and brooding. Angel was the biggest masochist Spike had ever seen. He swore that Angel actually enjoyed the pain his soul brought him. But Spike also figured it was the right thing to do. Of course, there was the chance that if he did this, Buffy would stay there and live happily ever after. Not that Spike would care either way, of course.  
  
With a sigh, Spike started writing before he could lose his nerve. Within an hour he had constructed a simple letter with instructions for Angel on how to get his very own, permanent soul. If the Poofter had half a brain he'd be on his way to Africa by the next night.  
  
Buffy returned, as promised, when the hour was up. "Finished?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Wanna get something to eat before we leave?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Spike stood up on legs that were still slightly unsteady and followed her downstairs. Cordelia was placing two large mugs of blood on the table that was already set with two plates of spagetti. "I thought we could all eat dinner together before it was for you two to go.."  
  
*** ".home," Buffy announced, turning on her heel and calmly walking away.  
  
"Slayer, Buffy, wait up," Spike called after her, helplessly. He didn't mean to piss her off or upset her, but damnit, it wasn't his fault. She asked about it, she wanted to be told how he defeated the slayers. What was he supposed to do? Lie about it? She had a death wish, all slayers did. It wasn't any reason to get angry with him over.  
  
Spike gathered up the money she had thrown at him before stalking off, tears of frustration gathering in his eyes. How dare she talk to him like that, treat him like that, after everything he had told her? Didn't she know that he had given her the story of his greatest loss and greatest success.didn't she understand that he had completely opened himself up to her?  
  
Apparently not. Spike saw red as he furiously stomped to his crypt. He regretted that he didn't tear her throat out when he had the chance. God, the little bitch deserved it. He tried to think of away to vent his anger, but nothing came to mind. Even staking vampires didn't have any charm. He wanted to take his anger out on the person who caused it.  
  
With a curse he turned back towards Buffy's house. If he couldn't harm her physically, he would be damned sure to make her cry. He knew enough of her secrets to cut her right to her core, to make her weep with pain and humiliation like he had.  
  
He marched into her backyard, practicing the words he would fling at her like knives. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that at first he didn't notice her small, huddled form on the backporch. The sound of her muffled sob brought him short though.  
  
"What do you want now?" She asked when she noticed him. He could see tears slowly streaming down her face, her eyes were large and wet.  
  
"What's wrong?" Spike asked, sitting beside her. His anger was gone, washed away by her obvious pain. He put his arm around her and she instinctually leaned into him.  
  
"It's my mom?"  
  
"What's wrong with Joyce?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, "They don't know. She's going in tomorrow for more tests."  
  
Spike tightened his grip, "Your mum is going to be fine. She's a tough bird."  
  
"But what if she's not? Spike I can't live without her."  
  
Spike placed a small kiss on her head, and inhaled her rich scent. She smelt of power. She was lethal and dangerous. But she was curled against him like a kitten now, and she needed reassurance.  
  
"She'll be fine," he whispered. She didn't respond, just savored the way he felt. She was pissed at him still, but she needed him too. She had hurt his feelings tonight, she knew she had, and she felt bad about that. She wanted to apologize, but in her current state, she couldn't find the words.  
  
"Shhh," he said gently, "relax, pet."  
  
He held her and eventually the tears dried. "I'm.  
  
*** ".scared?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Terrified."  
  
"I know how to drive. You can relax."  
  
"Who was crazy enough to teach you how to drive?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "Xander taught me. It just got to the point that I couldn't be without a license anymore."  
  
Spike nodded, but didn't ask her to elaborate. They passed the next two hours in silence, both deep in their own thoughts. Buffy was trying to figure out how to fill in Spike about the details of her life, and Spike was trying to figure out how to avoid the Slayer as much as possible. Maybe he could hide in his old crypt?  
  
When they finally pulled into Buffy's familiar driveway, Spike sighed with relief. She wasn't as bad as she used to be, but she still didn't understand the concept of speed limits.  
  
They walked up to Buffy's door, and she paused before she opened it. "There's something you should know.I should have told you these things before we left, actually."  
  
"What is it Slayer?"  
  
Before she could answer the door flew open and a small girl threw herself at Buffy. "You're home," she said gleefully. She hugged Buffy tightly and Buffy returned the embrace with a smile. Finally they broke apart and the little girl looked up at Spike with large hazel eyes.  
  
"Who is this?" She asked.  
  
"This is Spike," Buffy said. "Spike, this is Joyce." 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
Spike was flabbergasted. Buffy had a little girl? Buffy was a mother? That means there must be a father. Was Buffy married? Oh God, he couldn't even begin to think about that. Buffy couldn't be married. Could this really be her little girl?  
  
"Go on upstairs and tell Aunt Dawn we're home," Buffy said gently, then led Spike into the house as the little girl half waddled, half crawled up the stairs. She noticed the shocked look on his face and smiled. "She's not mine, Spike."  
  
"She's not?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "No, she's Willow and Tara's little girl."  
  
"Where are the Witches?" Spike asked, relief pouring over him.  
  
Buffy frowned and motioned for him to sit down on the couch. "They had Joyce four years ago. They were so happy, both of them were great parents. The named me legal guardian in case anything happened to them. It was really more of precaution than anything, nobody thought that I would outlive them."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Two years ago, they were both in a car accident." Buffy's throat constricted, "Willow died instantly, but Tara held on for a few more days. She was able to say goodbye to Joyce, begged me to take care of her."  
  
Out of habit, Spike took Buffy's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Anyway, I've had her for the past two years, and it's been so hard. But worth it. She reminds me so much of Willow and Tara, and she's so smart. We all do our best to take care of her. Me, Xander, Giles, Dawn when she's here."  
  
"She's obviously very loved," Spike murmured.  
  
Buffy smiled weakly, "I don't mean to get all watery on you. I'll go upstairs and make sure the guestroom is vamp-proof."  
  
Spike didn't let go of her hand. Buffy sat back slightly. This was the Spike she remembered, caring and concerned about her. God she missed him so, so much. At first she didn't think she would survive without his support, but as when everybody else left, she carried on and did splendidly. She really didn't need Spike to live her life, but she would be lying if she said she didn't want him apart of it.  
  
"I wanted a child for so long, you know? I never thought I'd be a mother. I actually thought I'd be a horrible mother."  
  
"Why?" Spike asked.  
  
Buffy snorted, "Why do you think? What if I got killed or seriously injured? Plus, sometimes I felt so hollow, like I couldn't love anybody..like I wouldn't be able to love a child, even if she was mine."  
  
"But that's not the case."  
  
"No," Buffy agreed, "it's not."  
  
Spike couldn't respond because it sounded like a herd of elephants were stampeding down the stairs. Spike stood up as he saw Dawn carrying Joyce, hurrying down the stairs as fast as she dared. He couldn't believe his eyes. Dawn had grown into a beautiful young woman. Gone was the child he once knew, and in her place was a strong, competent woman with a winning smile and a proud posture.  
  
"Spike," she greeted warmly, putting down the red-headed little girl. "I'm so happy your back."  
  
Spike stood staring at her, unable to respond. He missed ten years of her life. Did he even know her anymore? She was no longer his little bit. He half expected her to be angry with him for leaving, but then he remembered that she wasn't a little girl anymore, feeling alone and half-abandoned. Spike did the only thing he could think to do. He held out his arms in a silent invitation.  
  
Dawn paused for a second, then wrapped her arms around him. Spike sighed and hugged her back. He didn't know how he felt about Buffy. His emotions and logic were at war. It didn't help that he was only recently sane and hadn't quite got his bearings back. But he knew he still cared for his Bit.  
  
"Where have you been?" She asked, finally stepping back.  
  
"Crazy," Spike answered with a straight face.  
  
"You never wrote," Dawn accused.  
  
Spike shrugged, "Until five days ago, I didn't even know who I was."  
  
Buffy nodded in agreement, "He was pretty out of it."  
  
Joyce tugged and Buffy's pants and demanded that she be picked up. "I missed you, Aunt Buffy."  
  
"You still have to go to bed," Buffy said. In response, Joyce stuck out her lip. "We'll go to the park tomorrow," Buffy promised, and that seemed to sooth the child before the torrent of tears could start.  
  
"Spike, do you need anything?" Dawn asked.  
  
He shook his head, "I just want to go to bed."  
  
And like someone had flipped off a light, Spike was back to his quiet, morose self. Dawn sensed the change in him and looked to Buffy for help, but all she could do was shrug. "I'll take you upstairs," Dawn said.  
  
Spike didn't expect to be led to Buffy's old room. "This is where you're staying," Dawn announced.  
  
Spike frowned, but didn't answer. This room held many great memories, and some not-so-great memories. But all traces that this was once Buffy's room had been removed, and it really didn't even smell like her anymore.  
  
"If you need anything, Buffy is sleeping in the master bedroom."  
  
"What about you Bit?"  
  
She shrugged, "I stay at a hotel when I'm in town. I love Joyce dearly, but sometimes it's nice to get away from her."  
  
Spike nodded and began removing his boots. Dawn left the room, shutting the door behind her. Spike was thankful for that small amount of privacy. He had not counted on sharing a house with Buffy and a four year old girl. He frowned, maybe staying here really wasn't a good idea. He had his doubts before, but now he was really worried. He didn't know how long he would be lucid, and he felt all mixed up inside. What if he snapped and scared, or worse, hurt Joyce?  
  
He'd talk to Buffy about it the next day. For now though, all he wanted to do was lose himself in dreams. In his dreams, everything was extremely simple and straightforward. There was no guilt gnawing away at him constantly, no resentment, jealously, angry, hatred, love, or confusion. It was just him, inside of Buffy, feeling her warm flesh and smelling the heady aroma her arousal and the tangy musk of her sweat and power pouring out of her skin. It was just the two of them and.  
  
*** .words weren't needed, but that didn't make Spike shut-up. Buffy didn't mean hearing the murmured words of love and devotion though. They soothed her anger and calmed her, even as his touch soothed her feverish skin.  
  
She lost herself in his arms, turning herself over to him completely. Had it been over a month since they had been together? So many things have happened, and she was already so tired. She needed this respite where she could just be a woman, held tenderly by her lover. In a few hours she would be the Slayer again, but in the meantime, she wanted to leave those problems behind her. She wanted to let Spike strip them away from her one by one, until it was just her laying beneath him quivering with longing, aching with desire.  
  
When they were done, and Buffy lay quivering in his arms, she decided to confide in him. He was her confidant, after all.  
  
"Dawn isn't real," she whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, "Dawn. She isn't real. She is some sort of mystical key..some monks turned the Key into a little girl and gave her to me, so I could take care of her. Just a couple of months ago."  
  
"That's rot," Spike said, "I remember her since she was just a little girl."  
  
Buffy shook her head, "The monks created memories for all of us."  
  
Spike was silent for several minutes, finally he asked, "How do you know?"  
  
"One of the monks told me. Apparently, it has something to do with Glory."  
  
"Glory?"  
  
"Kicked my ass a few nights ago. She's a Hellgod. She sent a snake thing the other night to try to track the Key. She's looking for Dawn, she doesn't know what form the key is in. We can't let anybody find out, Spike. Not even Dawn."  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Slayer?"  
  
"I can't let other people know, Spike. It'll put her life in danger."  
  
"Not other people. The bit will find out one way or the other. I think you should tell her."  
  
"How?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "I'm sure you'll think of something. Who else knows?"  
  
"Giles."  
  
"Shouldn't you tell your mum?"  
  
"I don't know. I think she has enough to worry about."  
  
"How is she?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, "Not good. She's still in the hospital; she's scheduled for surgery soon. She asked them if she could go home between now and then. They'll let me know tomorrow."  
  
"I'm here if you need..  
  
*** ".anything?"  
  
Spike growled in frustration. "I need you to stop asking that question!"  
  
"Sorry, I just want to make sure you're comfortable." Buffy was getting really sick of apologizing to him. Fuck, why was she even helping him to begin with? He obviously didn't want anything to do with her. It's not like she didn't have enough to worry about without his whiny ass.  
  
"Look, I'm fine. I'm not an invalid, if I need anything I can take care of myself." His tone wasn't as testy, but she could tell his patience was wearing thin. Well fuck it, so was hers.  
  
"Like you've been doing for the past ten years?" She asked.  
  
"I'm still here aren't I? Still fed myself and dressed myself. Trust me, Slayer, I can survive without you moddly-coddling me."  
  
"You could at least show a little gratitude."  
  
"For what? I didn't want you to bring me here."  
  
"Will you keep your voice down? I just put Joyce to bed."  
  
"I didn't want you to bring me here," Spike repeated, just above a whisper.  
  
"What is wrong with you? Why do you hate me all of a sudden?"  
  
"Buffy, do you have any idea what I'm going through? No, you don't. You don't even care, you're still a self-centered little cheer leader."  
  
Buffy's eyes widened and she took another step into the room. "That is one hell of a thing for you to say to me, you bastard. You are most arrogant, self-centered person I have ever met. So, why don't you enlighten me?"  
  
Spike glared at her, "Do you really want to know? I have the guilt of tens of thousands of murders. As if that wasn't enough, I still have the agony and pain of being in love with you. But oddly enough, I hate you too. Gee, I wonder why that can be?"  
  
"I don't know, Spike, why don't you tell me?"  
  
"I don't need to explain it to you, Slayer. You know exactly what you did, because it was exactly what you meant to do."  
  
"And how is that any different from what you did to me?"  
  
"Would you have preferred me to lie to you, Slayer? I did what I thought was right, for once in my life. Fat lot of good it did me."  
  
"No, I didn't want you to lie to me, Spike. But I didn't mean to hurt you. I was angry, I wasn't thinking."  
  
"Buffy, that excuse just isn't going to cut it with me. You said the things you knew would destroy me, and you did it on purpose. So yeah, I hate you. And I love you. And I'm so beneath you, all of you, that I can't stand it. So could you please just give me some time?"  
  
"Spike, I want to help."  
  
"It all hurts too much for that."  
  
Buffy turned to leave, but before she did she looked over her shoulder. "You got your spark back, Spike. Maybe you're closer to help that you think you are." 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
Spike didn't open his eyes immediately. He could sense someone in the room with him. Kneeling by the bed, as a matter of fact. He could hear a small heart, with a strong steady beat, and slightly uneven breathing close to his face. He knew he wasn't alone, but it was still a surprise when he opened his eyes and looked into a set of deep green ones.  
  
"Good morning," Joyce greeted with a smile.  
  
"What are you doing?" Spike asked slowly. He didn't know what to say to the kid. As a matter of fact, he wanted her to go away.  
  
"Watching you sleep," she answered promptly, her smile never waverig.  
  
Spike smiled tightly, "Well, why don't you toddle down and get breakfast."  
  
"Can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Already ate breakfast."  
  
Spike blinked. He couldn't argue with that. "Well, why don't you go watch telly?" He was eager to get her to go away. He wanted to eat before he had to deal with everybody. Or at least have a chance to wake up.  
  
"Not allowed to."  
  
"You aren't allowed to watch telly?" What the hell was wrong with Buffy?  
  
"Buffy says it'll rot my brain."  
  
"Yeah, well, Buffy would know about rotted brains, wouldn't she?" Spike sighed, "What do you want?"  
  
"Just want to watch you."  
  
Spike sighed again and ran his hands through his hair. For some reason, that made her giggle. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Your hair looks like a rat's nest."  
  
Spike grimaced and tried to smooth his hair. "Yeah, haven't brushed it for awhile. Should I cut it?"  
  
She nodded, "I can do it for you." Despite himself, Spike smiled at the thought of the little girl attacking him with scissors. The smiled faded as he imagined her poking his eyes out, or otherwise maiming him. "Maybe when you're older."  
  
"Ok," she said, then jumped on the bed. Spike froze.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm tired of standing."  
  
"Why don't you run down stairs and see if Bufy has any blood in the fridge."  
  
Joyce wrinkled her nose, "Why do you want blood. That's disgusting."  
  
Spike wondered if the girl knew about vampires. She should, Buffy wouldn't be stupid enough to keep her sheltered from the things that went bump in the night. Wait, this was Buffy. Maybe she would.  
  
"That's what I eat, ducks."  
  
"Ewww, yuck! Why do you eat blood?" Disgust was warring with curiosity in her young mind, and for the short time, curiosity was winning.  
  
Well, if she didn't know about vampires already, now was as good a time as ever. "Because I'm a vampire."  
  
"Like the Count on Sesame Street?"  
  
"Something like that, yeah."  
  
"Vampires aren't real."  
  
Spike's patience was wearing thin, and this was the final straw. She was old enough to know about what Aunt Buffy did in her spare time.  
  
"Really? Then why do I have fangs?" He said as his face morphed. Almost instantly, she let out a head-splitting shriek.  
  
"Buffy!" Spike was taken aback by the smell of fear radiating off her body, and his head was ringing with the sounds of her screams. Her face was covered in tears now, and she was desperately trying to get away, but she was tangled in the sheet. Spike was so rattled that he forgot to change back to his more charming, human visage.  
  
"What's going on in here?" Buffy said, hurrying into the bedroom. As soon as she saw Joyce's tears, she scooped her up in her arms and pressed Joyce's head into her shoulder, shielding her from Spike. "What's wrong with you?" She demanded.  
  
Spike looked confused, "I didn't do anything!"  
  
"Spike, you scared her. Why did you vamp out?"  
  
Spike allowed his face to change. "She said vamps don't exist."  
  
"Why did you tell..  
  
*** ".her?" Buffy demanded, her face flush with anger, but otherwise she seemed calm. Spike eyed her warily, looking for hidden stakes. "Are you mad at me? Do you hate me that much?"  
  
"It had nothing to do with how much I currently hate you, Slayer."  
  
"Then why did you tell her?"  
  
"Because she knew something was wrong! You were scaring her, Buffy. You and the Watcher both, and she has the right to know."  
  
"She's even more terrified now, Spike. She's freaking out. How could you do that?"  
  
"How could you keep it from her? What's with you and living in denial, Slayer? Don't you know the truth will set you free?" Spike smirked.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You aren't here because of Dawn, Slayer. You knew she would find out sooner or later. You're relieved I told her, because it saved you the trouble."  
  
"Enlighten me, Spike, why am I here?"  
  
"You're here because you blame me for what happened with Captain America."  
  
"Could you call him Riley? Just once?"  
  
"No. And I see you aren't denying this fact."  
  
"Why shouldn't I blame you, Spike? He'd still be here if it weren't for you!"  
  
"And do you really want that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Of course, because Riley made you so happy that you had to shag the undead. Come to think of his affinity towards my kind, maybe you two were meant for each other."  
  
She was shaking with rage now. "How dare you even talk about it? You don't know anything about us."  
  
"Oh, don't I? Iknow that you didn't love him. I know that he hated you for being the Slayer. I know that he can't handle you being stronger than him, emotionally and physically. I didn't destroy the relationship, he did."  
  
Buffy shook her head, "If it wasn't for me cheating on him, he never would have went to the vamp hoes."  
  
Spike roughly grabbed her and dragged her close to his body. His face was a mere inch from hers. "Yeah, maybe that's true. But what you two had was never real."  
  
"What, and you think what we have is?"  
  
"It's a hell of a lot more real than any other relationship you had."  
  
Buffy pulled away from him, "I loved Angel."  
  
Spike shrugged, "Past tense, Slayer. And he didn't stick around, did he?"  
  
Buffy winced at the mention of her past failure. "That was my fault too."  
  
"Goddamnit Slayer! What the fuck is wrong with you? It wasn't your fault that Angel is bloody stupid. He left you because he couldn't stand how strong you are. You didn't need him to coddle you, you needed him to stand by you. And he couldn't do it because his ego is too big."  
  
"How dare you talk about him like that? What do you know?"  
  
"I know him a hell of a lot better than you ever will, Slayer."  
  
"You knew Angelus."  
  
"No, I know Angel. The sooner you understand that they're not different, the better off you will be."  
  
"I can't stay here," Buffy said, looking away. "I have to get back to the Magic Box."  
  
"That's ok, Slayer. Run away when things get heavy. God forbid you actually have a conversation."  
  
"I don't want to talk to you Spike."  
  
"You better start talking to somebody, Buffy." Spike didn't sound angry, and Buffy knew this fight was over. For now.  
  
He stopped her at the door, "You wanna go patrolling tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll see you after sundown."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"What?" She asked, annoyance written plainly on her face.  
  
"I'm..  
  
*** ".sorry," Spike muttered. "I didn't mean to scare her. But why doesn't she know about vampires?"  
  
"Because she's too young."  
  
"When did you plan on telling her?"  
  
"I don't know, Spike! But I didn't expect to have such a graphic demonstration."  
  
"Well, maybe she shouldn't be creeping around my room while I'm asleep. Why weren't you watching her?" He managed to infuse his voice with the appropriate amount of anger and impatience.  
  
"I'm sorry, your majesty. She won't bother you anymore."  
  
"Good," he said when she slammed the door. When the door shut though, his anger dissipated, and he realized that he was incredibly lonely. 


	16. Chapter 16

The rain had been falling steadily for over two hours, blocking out the sun and turning the world into a dismal, gray place. Buffy had asked him not to leave his room; she didn't want him to upset little Joyce. Spike wanted to know why Joyce couldn't stay in her room, so he could at least watch some telly. She didn't even have any books for him to read to keep his mind occupied. He would have happily welcomed any distractions from thoughts of her.  
  
But there was nothing, so memories and images surrounded him. Buffy slaying. Buffy underneath him. Buffy angry. Buffy smiling. Buffy stroking Dawn's hair in en effort to comfort both of them. Buffy in.  
  
*** .Angel's arms. There she was, huddled against him, her face still wet with tears. Spike froze for a moment, then took slow, silent steps towards them so that he could be close enough to hear what they were saying.  
  
Joyce's death hit him hard. He couldn't see Buffy the night Joyce had died, because she was surrounded by friends and family. In an effort to help, he went patrolling for her. He took out his rage and sadness on the unsuspecting demon population of Sunnydale. He worked tirelessly from dusk to dawn, and then stumbled home, barely beating the sun's rays before he collapsed in a weary heap in his crypt.  
  
He couldn't attend the funeral, and that hurt. He liked Joyce, would go so far as to say he loved her like he had loved his own mum. She was a good lady. She was a Lady. He wanted to pay his respects to her, but decided it was better late than never. He thought by the time he made it to Joyce's grave, Buffy would be home with Dawn. He didn't expect her to keep a graveside vigil.  
  
He certainly didn't expect her to keep a graveside vigil with Angel. He wasn't surprised Angel had come, but could you blame him for hoping that Buffy would allow him to comfort her? And maybe he could take comfort in her?  
  
"I can stay in town as long as you want me," Angel offered, and Spike scowled. That was big of him, wasn't it? He could stick around if the heart broken girl needed him. He could be seen as the Big Hero, sacrificing his own precious time to make her feel better. It didn't matter to the Slayer that Spike would never make such an offer because Spike would never leave her in the first place. "How's forever? Does forever work for you?"  
  
Oh. God. Spike didn't wait around to hear anymore. He just didn't need that on top of everything else. He turned quickly and melted into the shadows of the cemetery, dark and furious.  
  
He didn't believe that Buffy loved him.yet. But he thought that given enough time, she would. Spike growled. Fuck this shit. He was the Big Bad, he didn't need to mourn over a woman, or mope over her daughter. He needed to kill something. He needed to tear off heads and rip out throats. He needed to wrap guts around necks. He needed a good brawl. Spike stormed into the night, looking for trouble, and maybe later, a stiff drink.  
  
He did his best to quiet the small voice in the back of head, wailing in pain and anger. He could give her forever, if only she would let him.  
  
*** "Buffy, can I have hotdogs for dinner?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because we had hot dogs for dinner last night," she explained patiently as she prepared the green salad.  
  
"But I like hot dogs," she said, sticking her lower lip out. She was only seconds from stomping her foot.  
  
"I know, Joyce, but you can't eat them every night."  
  
The girl seemed to accept this, and ceased her chatting for several minutes. She stared moodily out the window, watching the water streaks slide down the glass. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, and Buffy left her to them as she continued to make dinner.  
  
"Buffy?" She said presently.  
  
"What, dear?"  
  
"Spike is a vampire?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why isn't he trying to kill us?"  
  
Buffy blinked, and considered her answer. How many times had he threatened to rip her.  
  
*** ".bloody throat out! That's what I should do," Spike muttered to himself as he kicked around the empty whiskey bottles littering the floor.  
  
"Whose?" Buffy asked softly from the doorway.  
  
Spike looked up and scowled at her, "What do you want?"  
  
"I wanted to see you."  
  
"Why? Has Angel left already? The Poofter didn't even have the manners to come and say goodbye."  
  
"Yes."Buffy started.  
  
"Slayer, go home to your kid sis," Spike interrupted. "She's going to need you."  
  
"She wanted to stay with Willow and Tara," Buffy explained.  
  
"Then go see the Witches," Spike turned his back to her and pretended to look for a bottle that wasn't so empty.  
  
"I wanted..wanted to patrol."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I took care of it. Go get some sleep," the words were kind, but his tone was not. It was clear that he wanted her to leave, but Buffy didn't want to go. She felt numb, and almost like she was dreaming. The world looked all wrong. The colors were bleeding into each other. Shapes lost definition. She seemed so distant from everything, and almost like she was drowning. She couldn't be by herself tonight, and she didn't know how to be with Dawn. She wasn't strong enough for both of them. Not tonight.  
  
She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be in the room where her mother died. She didn't want to smell the fading traces of her mother's shampoo and perfume. She didn't want to go into the kitchen where her mother would never cook another meal. She didn't want to be surrounded by memories and reminded of all that was lost. The only place that left was Spike. He could be her safe haven. He could take care of her tonight. And tomorrow she would take on the new role of mother, and she would be strong and face Glory.  
  
"I want to be with you tonight," she finally admitted. She still had her pride though, and if he asked her to leave again, she would. Slayers were meant to be alone, after all, and she could survive. It would just hurt.  
  
Spike turned around, and she finally a good look at his face. He had taken a pounding, and one of eyes was swollen shut. There was dry blood on the side of his face. His shirt was tattered. But under the physical wounds, she saw raw pain on his face that had nothing to do with a fight. She could see the war in his eyes, but she was confused by it. Why would he be angry with her?  
  
She realized almost immediately why he was angry. It must have been Angel. She couldn't deal with Spike's hurt pride tonight, and she wouldn't fight with him over it. If he was going to make a deal out of it, she would just leave.  
  
He looked at her for what seemed like hours. She stared back, her face void of emotion as she felt the exhaustion over take her. Without a word, Spike stepped across to her and took her in his arms, resting her head on his chest.  
  
"Slayer, have you had a good cry?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"Come downstairs and I'll take care of you, luv."  
  
She allowed Spike to lead her down to this bed, and allowed him to undress her. She may not want him, but she needed him. And no matter how angry he was at her, he could never..  
  
*** ".hurt you," Buffy assured the child as she placed dinner in front of her.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"There are a lot of reasons." Buffy paused, wondering how much she should tell the little girl. "Are you scared of him?"  
  
"A little bit," she admitted.  
  
"Would talking to him help? You could ask him questions."  
  
Joyce hesitantly nodded, "But I don't want to go by myself."  
  
"We'll go upstairs when you finish eating," Buffy promised.  
  
Buffy watched Joyce eat, but ignored her own dinner. She hadn't been very hungry lately, and she couldn't sleep last night knowing Spike was in the next room. She felt an undeniable draw to him, and all she could think about was the ten wasted years. She had been lonely. It was hard enough to have a relationship with somebody when she was just the Slayer, introduce a small child, and the available, datable men pool shrunk considerably.  
  
She went on a few dates, and dated one man for a whole year. But they were just making time, and neither one of them were ready for any real commitment. Shortly after they stopped dating, he got engaged to a nice girl from Texas. Good for him. She suspected that one of the reasons she was so worried about Spike was because she was excited to have somebody to talk to again. Dawn wasn't around much, and Xander had a life of his own.  
  
"I'm done," Joyce announced.  
  
Buffy inspected her plate, "You have salad left."  
  
"I don't like green stuff."  
  
Buffy sighed; Joyce didn't like the green stuff. "I'll let you get away with that tonight, but tomorrow you're eating all your vegetables."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because growing girls need their vegetables to grow big and strong."  
  
"As strong as you?"  
  
For an instant, Buffy imagined how horrible it would be if Joyce was called as a Slayer. "Yeah," she said softly, "like me."  
  
Buffy picked her up and carried her upstairs. She knocked on the door, "Spike? Can we come in?"  
  
Spike didn't answer immediately. "Sure," he finally said.  
  
Buffy entered, balancing Joyce on her hip. "Joyce wants to talk to you," she explained.  
  
Spike was sprawled on his bed, but he sat up and moved over to allow his guests to sit beside him. In truth, he wasn't averse to talking to them.  
  
"Well?" Spike prompted.  
  
"Can I see your Grrr face?" Joyce asked shyly. In that moment she looked and sounded so much like Willow that it made Buffy's heart ache. Spike looked affected too as he glanced up and caught Buffy's eyes.  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked.  
  
Buffy looked concern, "I don't want you to be frightened."  
  
"I won't get scared," she promised.  
  
Buffy sighed and nodded, and Spike shrugged. He let the bones of his face adjust and his fangs distend. He flashed his golden eyes at the silent girl, sitting rigid in Buffy's arms. She seemed both fascinated and horrified, and Buffy and Spike waited patiently for her ultimate reaction. Buffy was more apprehensive, terrified for the child. But Spike smiled, flashing his fangs. He could hear her heartbeat steadily. The girl was just taking a few moments to adjust, but she wasn't scared.  
  
"Can I touch you?" She finally asked.  
  
Spike obligingly leaned forward so she could reach him with her short arms, and she tentatively touched the ridges on his forehead, and then quickly pulled her hand away. She looked up at Buffy, as if expecting an explanation from her of some sort.  
  
"I think it's time for your bath," Buffy said softly. She expected Joyce to resist, but she allowed herself to be led out of the room. Spike watched her go with interest. She was a brave child. Obviously had Willow's brains too. He wondered if she also had Willow's magic ability. If so, he hoped she took after Glinda the Good Witch. Spike knew that Willow never really understood that magic had consequences. Consequences that were far reaching, and that he was still feeling the effects of. 


	17. Chapter 17

Angel stared at the worn piece of paper for the hundredth time that day. Ever since Spike had left, it was all he could think about. He didn't tell anybody about it, because he hadn't made up his mind. Could he travel all the way to Africa? Would it work? Would the same thing that happened to Spike happen to him? Spike indicated in the letter that Angel would have a different experience. But could he really trust Spike about this?  
  
He watched Cordelia move around the hotel, taking care of her various chores. She never complained, but he knew that she was tired of their "relationship." She deserved more, but he couldn't just walk out on her. He grimaced at the thought. He left Buffy for the same reason, and looked how well that worked out. Sure he had a life and a purpose in L.A., but even though he loved Cordy, he still regretted it every day.  
  
Angel sighed, what was wrong with him? He had the perfect opportunity here, yet he hesitated. A part of him suspected that he didn't want a permanent soul. A small, nagging voice pointed out that if we went to Africa, Angelus wouldn't permanently die. What was so horrible about that? Nothing, really. He never wanted to be Angelus again, but..  
  
Angel folded the letter and put it back into his pocket. There would be plenty of time to decide. He had a whole eternity, didn't he? But Cordelia didn't. Damn..  
  
*** .Spike was bored. Painfully, terribly bored. He wasn't tired, he wasn't hungry, he wasn't restless. He had permission to leave his room now, but there wasn't anything out there he wanted to do. Buffy was at work, Dawn was in L.A., and Joyce was at her pre-school. So he had the entire house to himself, and nothing to do.  
  
Last time he had the house to himself was when he was taking care of Dawn. Spike wasn't above snooping, and while Buffy was gone, he went through all of her personal belongings. Nobody had the heart to clean her room out.that's what he thought then, anyway. Now looking back it was clear that nobody cleaned out the room because they never thought she would be gone for long.  
  
He was in her room now, and again, he wasn't above snooping. She had ten years worth of memories in this room, and she was a different person now. Spike understood that. Whatever had happened to her in the past decade had molded her into a woman that he didn't really know anymore. The girl he used to love simply would not be able to juggle a small child, a house, a job, on top of her slaying responsibilities. The girl he knew gave up on life, not once but twice.  
  
He looked for clues now. Her wardrobe was far more conservative, in muted colors. Gone were the bright clothes and the belly shirts and the pants that were slightly too tight. Her shoes were sensible. Not a 4 inch heel among them. His girl had grown up.  
  
Spike turned his attention to her desk. He found an old cigar box pushed to the very back of the bottom drawer. Curious, he pulled it out and opened it. Inside was a stack of letters, and all the envelopes contained one simple name, written in tight, feminine handwriting. Spike. Spike frowned and debated whether he should put the box back without reading the letters or not. On the one hand, he did feel slightly guilty now about reading her private thoughts. On the other hand, they were addressed to him, weren't they?  
  
The conscience Spike acquired nearly a decade before didn't stop him from opening the envelope on the top. It was dated March 7, 2112. Nearly six months prior. He didn't read it immediately; instead he looked at when all the other letters were dated. At the very bottom of the pile was a letter dated February 28, 2002, three days after he had left town. It was also the shortest letter in the stack.  
  
ISpike, I'm sorry. Please come back. /I  
  
He wondered if she would have sent these letters to him if she knew where to send them? He wondered if he would have come back if he had received such a letter? He had a feeling that Buffy never truly understood why he left. She thought it was just a fight, like the others that had defined their relationship. Fighting was never a problem before, and he was pretty thick skinned. No, he didn't leave because they had a fight. He left because it wasn't just a fight, wasn't just a war of angry words. He left because she honestly believed what she said.  
  
He sighed and lost interest in the letters. Maybe he'd read them later. He carefully put the letters in the box the way he found them, and returned the box to its place in the drawer. He left her room the way he found it, and went downstairs to see what was on television.  
  
Spike found it somewhat amusing that he hadn't watched television in a decade. All of his favorite shows were probably long over. He flipped through the stations and, to his delight, found Passions. As the hour progressed, he was thrilled to see that he could still follow the storyline. But that didn't match the excitement when he saw that Springer was still on the air. Now that was quality television. He wondered idly if one of the cable stations was carrying Dawson's Creek. Maybe he could find it on DVD. He'd have to ask Buffy about that.  
  
He was engrossed by the drama on the screen when Buffy came home. "You left your room, huh?" She said pleasantly as she closed the door.  
  
"Yep, decided I needed to catch up on my shows."  
  
Buffy smiled, "Did you look in the closet?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
Buffy opened the hall closet widely, and Spike gaped. "Dawn recorded every episode of Passions, and when she moved, she made sure I did as well."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"She.we.never believed you wouldn't come back," Buffy explained quietly.  
  
Spike didn't know how to respond that. It seemed she was surprising him on a daily basis. Did her version of events allow for him to return? Were they remembering things so radically differently that she could honestly believe he would return, no hard feelings, and worried about Passions? He saw from her smiling face that that was indeed the case. For the first time, Spike began to doubt his own mind.  
  
"I thought you said you wouldn't be home until after five?" Spike asked.  
  
She shrugged, "Sometimes when it's slow, I go home early."  
  
"What do you do now, anyway?"  
  
"There is a little clothing store in the mall. I'm the manager. It's not bad at all. I get to set my own hours so it doesn't get in the way of my other job," she paused and tilted her head slightly, as if considering something. "It's a lot of responsibility, but I really enjoy it."  
  
"I'm glad to hear you aren't working at the Double Meat," Spike spat the name of the fast-food chain.  
  
She laughed, "No, I quit that place a long time ago. I've been working in the mall for several years now."  
  
She sat down beside him and watched what was on the televsion for a few moments. "I can't believe this is still on the air."  
  
"Neither can I. What's this about not letting Joyce watch telly?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "She's allowed to watch a few hours a day. Mainly things on PBS. I...I just don't know how to raise a small child, you know? And it's hard because she's so smart, Spike. I don't want her to waste that intelligence on TV. I want her to read and play."  
  
"She is extremely bright," Spike agreed. "Has she shown any uh.magical abilities?"  
  
"I've been watching her carefully, but nothing yet. So far she just has their brains. Anyway, Xander is coming over for dinner tonight, and I've got some errands to run."  
  
Spike watched her move about the house, straightening up, picking up Joyce's toys, and dusting. It occurred to him that he could offer to help her out, but he wasn't in the helping mood. For her part, she didn't seem to expect him to get up and lend her a hand. He lost interest in the television, and just let his eyes follow her. He used to love to watch her, and could do so for hours without interruption.  
  
"Are you hungry?" She asked.  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
Buffy walked into the kitchen, aware of his eyes on her. She was feeling very self-conscious, and awkward. She missed the way they used to talk, and now it was hard work to carry on a conversation. She didn't know what to say to him. She didn't just want to talk about Joyce all of the time, but it seemed that at this point, she was all they had in common. They didn't have a common experience in ten years, and before he left, it seemed they were never on the same page. Even the sex was awkward, and at times, unfulfilling.  
  
She had two hours before she had to pick up Joyce, and three before she expected Xander. Maybe she could think of something fun to do with Spike.  
  
"Hey, Spike," she said, entering the living room, "do you want to play Scrabble?"  
  
Spike raised one eyebrow, "What?"  
  
"Scrabble. Do you want to play?"  
  
Spike was bewildered; did she want to play Scrabble? What on Earth would posses her to ask if he wanted to play Scrabble? "Why?"  
  
Buffy frowned, "I just thought it sounded like fun is all."  
  
"Since when do you think Scrabble is fun? That doesn't strike me as something you would enjoy," Spike said.  
  
"What does that mean?" She demanded. "Do you think I'm stupid?"  
  
Spike shook his head, "You just never struck me as very academic."  
  
"I'll have you know that I got a 700 verbal score on my SATs," she informed him.  
  
"Slayer, I don't even know what that means."  
  
She flopped down on the couch, "It means I'm smart enough to play Scrabble."  
  
They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the talk show. "Are you bored?" Spike finally asked. "Is that why you're sitting here scowling?"  
  
"No, I'm not bored. I'm frustrated."  
  
"Been awhile since your last boyfriend, Slayer?"  
  
Buffy punched his arm, "That's not what I meant."  
  
"Then what did you mean?"  
  
"I didn't expect things to be so awkward between us."  
  
"What? You thought we could just be best friends again?"  
  
"We were never.." Buffy started to protest, then faltered. Spike stared at her, waiting for her to finish the sentence. "Can we start again?" She asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Start over, you know. Put the past behind us. We were friends once and..."  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. No starting over. I'm not interested in starting anything with you."  
  
Buffy was hurt, and was horrified at the tears prickling the back of her eyes. "Why not?  
  
Spike leaned forward, "Because you never..  
  
*** ".trust me?" Spike demanded. "Is that so difficult?"  
  
"Yes," Buffy answered. "Why should I? Last time I trusted you, you tried to get the chip removed."  
  
"Well, I didn't do anything."  
  
"How am I supposed to know that? Your girlfriend comes to town, there's a rash of 'mysterious' murders, and I'm not supposed to suspect you?"  
  
"What do you think I did? Stared at them to death?"  
  
"You probably fed from them after she killed them," Buffy answered.  
  
Spike frowned, "What are you talking about?"  
  
"The way I figure it, you didn't tell me Dru was in town because you were enjoying the all You-Can-Eat-Buffet."  
  
Spike shook his head and began to walk away, but then turned around. "This isn't about whether or not I was feeding off of Dru's leftovers. What's really bothering you?"  
  
"Isn't that enough?"  
  
"You know I didn't do anything. Why are you picking a fight?"  
  
"All we ever do is fight."  
  
"Because you won't allow yourself to be happy for five minutes."  
  
"How can I be happy Spike? Look at my life."  
  
"You won't let me make you happy."  
  
"What? Are you going to bring my mom back? Are you going to stop Glory? Are you going to protect my sister and my friends?"  
  
"I'm doing my best to help you, Buffy."  
  
"But it'll never be enough, Spike. You won't ever be able to do enough."  
  
"I see."  
  
"No, you don't see. Spike, can't you feel it? It's all spinning out of control. And now Drusilla is back in town.."  
  
"She's gone," Spike said quietly. "You don't have to worry about her."  
  
"Did she leave town?"  
  
"Don't worry about it Slayer, she won't bother you again."  
  
"I can't do this anymore, Spike. I need to rest."  
  
"Come to my crypt and you can get some sleep."  
  
"No, Spike, I need to rest."  
  
Spike pulled her against him and looked into her eyes. She looked like she had aged ten years in the past ten days. "I know, pet. I know." Spike didn't say anything then, but he knew that was the moment he lost his Slayer forever. 


	18. Chapter 18

A/N-Thank you so much for all of the reviews, email, and support. I really appreciate it. You guys are the greatest. I hope you continue to enjoy my story...it looks like it's going to be a long one.  
  
Chapter 18  
  
"How long will he be staying here?" Xander asked as he helped Buffy set the table.  
  
She shrugged, "I don't know. We haven't really talked about it."  
  
"Joyce seems to like him," he commented. Buffy couldn't tell if he was upset about that or not.  
  
"Yeah, she freaked out a bit when she found out he's a vampire," Buffy said casually.  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," Xander said, holding up his hands, "I thought we decided we weren't going to tell her about vampires yet."  
  
"Well, we weren't. But Spike accidentally vamped out yesterday morning, and the cat was sorta out of the bag."  
  
"Accidentally? Was he trying to hurt her?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, slightly upset at how suspicious Xander was. Why would he think that Spike would try to hurt her little girl? "No, she frightened him."  
  
Xander started laughing. "Little Joyce frightened the Big Bad?"  
  
Buffy went into the living room to check on Joyce and Spike. They were sitting comfortably together on the couch, watching a NOVA special about whales. She watched them for several minutes, with a small smile tugging at her lips. Occasionally Joyce would ask a question, and Spike would answer patiently. Buffy could tell by the smile on Joyce's face and her body language that she had just found her new best friend.  
  
"Joyce, it's time to go wash up for dinner."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"Go on, Joyce. You know you have to."  
  
Joyce scowled at her and crawled off the couch and walked angrily into the kitchen. "She's got a temper," Buffy explained, watching her go.  
  
"Yeah, so did Red."  
  
"It wasn't so close to the surface though. If she's bothering you..."  
  
Spike shook his head, "Nah, she's no bother."  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to eat with us?"  
  
"I'm sure I can't deal with Harris right now."  
  
"He'll be on his best behavior," Buffy offered.  
  
Spike snorted, "Whatever. No, I'll just finish watching this fine program."  
  
Buffy, Xander, and Joyce at in silence. Joyce practically breathed her food in so she could leave the table. It was obvious to Buffy that she was eager to get back to Spike. And Buffy couldn't really blame her. She always enjoyed her weekly dinners with Xander, but tonight she just wanted to leave Joyce with Spike and go patrolling. She needed time and space to think, because things just weren't working out, and she didn't understand why.  
  
She hurried Xander through dinner and out the door, and hoped that he didn't take offense. He had a question in his eyes, but he allowed her to rush him through the evening.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can you do me a favor?"  
  
"Depends."  
  
"Will you keep an eye on Joyce while I patrol? I'll be back in an hour."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Buffy frowned, "If you're sure.."  
  
"I'm sure. Go patrol."  
  
"I'll put her to bed when I get home."  
  
"Ok."  
  
Spike looked at her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to grab her coat and just leave already. Joyce ignored her. Now there was a National Geographic Special about polar bears, and she was entranced. Buffy reassured herself that they were fine and opened the.  
  
..door, allowing Spike to enter first. "We don't have a lot time. You get the weapons downstairs, I have some in my room."  
  
"Buffy.." Spike grabbed her arm.  
  
"Not now, Spike."  
  
"Then when? I need to talk to you."  
  
"We have to go, they're waiting for us. Dawn is..."  
  
"I know. Buffy.."  
  
"We're not all going to make it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm counting on you to protect her."  
  
"Till the end of the world, even if that happens to be tonight."  
  
"Thank you." Spike watched her walk upstairs, and he thought he might choke. She was so beautiful, and tonight, she was all Slayer. She had purpose. And for the first time in weeks, Spike saw spirit. The world had been holding her down, and the weight of it had suffocated her. She wouldn't let him, or anybody else, help. But tonight, she was going to use all of her troops, and she was going to save her sister and the world. Because that's what she did.  
  
"Ready?" She asked, returning.  
  
"Buffy, I.."  
  
"Spike, please, let's just go."  
  
"Damnit Buffy, you are going to listen to me."  
  
She stopped and turned around, "What?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
She sighed, "Spike, I know. Come on."  
  
"Buffy, please. You think you aren't going to see the sunrise, but you will. I won't let anything happen to Dawn."  
  
Buffy smiled, and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I know. I." Buffy paused, and remembered what her Spirit Guide said. The Slayer forges strength from love. Love. "Spike, I love you too."  
  
Spike gaped, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. "Slayer?"  
  
"Come on. We have a war to fight."  
  
Spike followed her out quietly, ready for the battle. Tonight was not the night for mushy sentiments and romantic declarations of love. There would be time enough tomorrow night for that. Buffy led the way to the Magic Box, satisified that if she didn't make it through, then at least Spike would know that she loved...  
  
***  
  
.him. That was the problem. Even after ten years, she still loved him. She never stopped loving him, no matter what she told him before he left. She was stupid. And crazy. She would have to tell Spike about that sometime. How crazy she was.  
  
She should have spent more time looking for him. Spike didn't exactly blend into his environment. If she had just put up more of an effort, he wouldn't have been gone so long. She could have saved him from himself, and they wouldn't have lost ten years.  
  
Part of Buffy believed that, but the other part recognized that their relationship had never been easy, and there was no reason to believe even if she had found him sooner, things would be different than they are now.  
  
Slaying wasn't a challenge at all anymore, and there were very few vamps left in Sunnydale. Demons were still attracted to the Hellmouth though, but fewer and fewer came each year. If she didn't have Joyce, she would probably move away and find some place with more activity, a place that needed her more. But she had something resembling a life in Sunnydale, and so while the threat grew less menacing, she stuck around.  
  
For awhile she had toyed with the thought of moving to Los Angeles and working with Angel. He had told her more than once that he could use all the help he could get. It seemed that all the demons and vamps that were skipping Sunnydale were vacationing in L.A. But it would have been too difficult for her to live there and watch Angel and Cordelia together. She could accept they loved each other, but it still stung a little.  
  
And of course, she always had that little bit of hope that Spike would return and look for her in Sunnydale. It wouldn't do to miss him because she was living in L.A.  
  
She sighed and turned east, towards the last two cemeteries of the night. Hopefully she'd be home before the evening news started.  
  
***  
  
Spike had to admit, he liked watching TV with Joyce. She asked a lot of questions, but that didn't bother him. He was happy to answer them. She yawned widely and then grinned at him, her eyes sparkling.  
  
"Are you tired?" He asked.  
  
She shook her head, "No. It's not my bedtime."  
  
Spike looked at the clock. "Buffy said you should be in bed by nine. It's past nine-thirty."  
  
"I don't wanna go to bed."  
  
"I know, but we don't want to make Buffy mad, do we?"  
  
"No. Will you tell me a story?"  
  
"I don't know any," Spike protested. Well, that was technically true. He didn't know any that was suitable for four year old girls. The last thing he needed was to be responsible for more nightmares.  
  
"Please. I'm sure you know lots."  
  
"Ok, ok. Let's go."  
  
"Carry me?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, then lifted her warm, wriggly body into his arms. She was soft, and smelt like candy and apples. She relaxed against him, and Spike marveled at how trusting she was. There wasn't a doubt in her head that Spike would take care of her. Spike realized that he wanted to take care of her.  
  
"Right then, here you are," he said, depositing her in her bed.  
  
"I need to brush my teeth."  
  
"You can do that in the morning."  
  
"Buffy says I should do it every night."  
  
"Yeah, well, Buffy isn't here, is she? Now lay down."  
  
Joyce obeyed, and pulled her Muppets comforter up to her chin. "Spike, did you know my mommies?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Tell me about them."  
  
Spike settled himself on the bed beside her. "Well, Willow, she was a smart bird. Cute too. She used to wear this skirt and pink sweater that..well, anyway, she was a smart girl. She was kind hearted, always wanted to take care of people and save the world. And her bird.Tara..she was a good woman. Classy."  
  
"How did you know them?"  
  
"Well, a long time ago, we were all friends." Sort of. Spike didn't think he could explain the whole thing to the little girl.  
  
"Tell me a story about them."  
  
Spike closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He never spent too much time with the Witches, until after Buffy died, and that wasn't a time he liked to remember. But they took care of him, and for that short time, they all got along.  
  
"Well, there was this one time they saved my life."  
  
"How?"  
  
"A long time ago, long before you were born, someone I loved very much died."  
  
"I'm sorry," Joyce interrupted, and Spike felt a pierce of guilt as her eyes began to well up.  
  
"Oh, it's ok," he hastened to her assure her, "it's ok now. Let me tell you. See, I loved her very much and I didn't think I could make it one more...  
  
***  
  
".night," Tara said, concern etched across her face. "And if he does make it through the night, he'll just be waiting outside for the sun."  
  
"What should we do about it?" Willow asked. "We can't worry about him right now. We have so many other things..and...and how can we take care of him?"  
  
"We have each other, Will. You saw how devastated he was...he doesn't have anybody. I think Buffy was his best friend."  
  
Willow frowned, "Why would you think that? All they did was work together. Why? Do you think they did more than work together?"  
  
"Willow, we can worry about that later. Let's get Spike here so we can keep an eye on him. Dawn is worried about him too."  
  
"What if he won't come over willingly?"  
  
Tara shrugged, "We have to try."  
  
They walked to his crypt in silence, their battered and sore bodies protesting. They should be resting, they were both exhausted. But if Tara was worried about the welfare of the vampire, then Willow would help her do whatever she thought needed to be done.  
  
When they arrived, they found Spike sitting on the floor, propped up against the sarcophagus. His clothes were filthy, and blood was still seeping out of his back onto the concrete floor. He was staring blankly into space, and he didn't even look up when they entered.  
  
"Spike," Tara said gently, kneeling beside him, "Come with us so we can take care of your wounds."  
  
He didn't respond.  
  
"Spike, we want to help you. Please come back with us."  
  
"Can't," Spike muttered.  
  
Tara looked up at Willow, hopeful. If he was responding then she had a better chance with him. "Spike, yes you can. Come on, you're bleeding."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
Tara looked at her watch, "A couple of hours until dawn. That's why you need to come with us now."  
  
"Waiting for dawn."  
  
"Spike, you can't. Please, we need you," Willow said, kneeling on the other side of him. Losing Buffy was..but they couldn't lose Spike too. Not now. Dawn loved him and she needed him. And if Willow was going to be totally honest, she could admit that they all needed him. He was the strongest one. And the threat was never gone for long.  
  
"Don't need me."  
  
"Yes, yes we do," Tara insisted. But Spike didn't respond, and he wouldn't allow himself to be pulled to his feet. He never actively dissuaded them from helping him, but he didn't really let them help him either. He said, unmovable, unseeing, uncaring, while they tugged on him and pleaded with him. Finally, when they were just about to give up, he stood, without warning.  
  
He moved across the crypt slowly. Willow watched him go, happy to see that he was cooperating with him.  
  
"Willow, quick!" Tara shouted, just as Spike opened the door, and they saw dawn's first fingers light the entry.  
  
With a flick of her wrist, Willow slammed the door shut just as Tara ran across the room and yanked Spike back. "What's wrong you?" She shouted, and Willow's eyes widened with surprise. She had never heard her sweet girlfriend raise her voice to anybody before.  
  
"I killed her," Spike shouted back. "Now, let me go."  
  
Tara shook her head, "You didn't kill her, Spike."  
  
"If I had done my part, she wouldn't have died. If I had protected Dawn she wouldn't have..I can't..." Spike looked at her helplessly, "Just please let me go."  
  
"Come with us Spike. Please."  
  
"You don't understand. Red, she understands, don't you? You don't want to be here. Take your bird and go home."  
  
Willow shook her head, "Spike, it's not your fault."  
  
Spike was about to protest when the door flung open, and Spike reflexively took a step back, away from the sun. "There you are," Giles exclaimed. "We've been searching for the past 3 hours."  
  
"We're trying to help Spike," Tara explained softly. "He wants to.." Spike made another lunge for the door, and again, Willow slammed it shut. "Go for a walk," she finished for Tara.  
  
"Yes, I see." Giles looked bad and felt even worse. All he could think was that his Slayer was gone. Over and over and over he replayed the fall in his mind, as he stood helpless and mute with horror, watching her plunge to her death. It seemed that he really noticed Spike for the first time, and realized that he was just as battered physically and emotionally as the rest of them. "Spike, why don't you let me drive you to Buf..Dawn's. She wants to take care of you."  
  
Spike looked at him, his blue eyes wide and wet with tears. "She doesn't want anything to do with me. I failed, I.." He squared his shoulders, and in a blink of an eye, the tears were gone. Suddenly, he didn't look so suicidal. "Right then, take me to Dawn."  
  
Spike's plan was to sneak out of the house later that day, when they were all gone or asleep. He didn't want to live without Buffy, and he couldn't go one with the knowledge that it was his fault. That he had failed to live up to his promise. That he had failed to protect the two most precious things in his life, and now the Slayer...his Slayer...was gone.  
  
But Tara wouldn't let him. She kept a close eye on him, sleeping only after Willow gave Spike a sleeping potent, guaranteed to knock him out for at least 24 hours. She kept an eye on him even after that low, as the days turned into weeks that stretched into long, harsh, unforgivable months. She wouldn't let him give on Dawn, or the rest of them.  
  
Every morning, Spike would wake up at dawn, and head upstairs to the kitchen. His hand would hover over the doorknob, as he gathered the courage to do what he felt was truly necessary, and every morning, she would place her hand on his and guide him away from the door. They never spoke a word about it, but it was a ritual and neither ever failed to show up for. Did he ever thank Tara for saving his life...  
  
*** ".everyday," he finished. "They took care of me everyday, until I got my strength back."  
  
Joyce didn't respond, she had drifted off to sleep. Spike smiled and tucked the blanket carefully around her. "Red, Glinda, I know you're watching over her. If you can hear me, I just want to say thanks."  
  
Spike felt rather silly talking to himself, and turned to leave quickly, before he woke up the sleeping girl. He was surprised to see Buffy standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.  
  
"How long have you been home?" Spike asked.  
  
"Not long."  
  
"Right, well, I'm off to bed."  
  
Buffy stepped out of his way, then shut the door, after getting one more look at Joyce. "Thanks for taking care of her. Did you make sure she brushed her teeth?"  
  
"Yeah. It was no problem. I like her."  
  
She smiled, "So do I. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?"  
  
Spike studied her face carefully. God, she was still so beautiful. It wouldn't take much for him to gather her up in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. He wanted to taste her one more time, at least. "No," he finally said softly, "I'm good."  
  
She took a step towards him, and suddenly, he was trapped between her and the bedroom door. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, warming him to his core. His body long to pressed up against hers, and it gravitated towards her smooth skin and soft curves.  
  
Like it always did before when he was this close to her, just a whisper away from touching, time seemed to stand still, and his senses were heightened. He could hear Joyce breathing softly in her room, and he could hear Buffy's pulse race. He could smell her sweet blood just below the scent of peaches and apple shampoo. Surely just one little kiss for old time's sake wouldn't hurt?  
  
Later he would blame the painful memories of losing her. He had just relived his worst nightmare come to life, surely it would be ok to just kiss her, and reassure himself that she was really alive. But whatever the reasons, Spike leaned forward and gently touched her mouth with his lips.  
  
And the world exploded. He lost himself in her taste, her scent, the way she felt against him. His mind was racing with just one thought; love, love, love this woman. Love his Slayer. Love her body and spirt, and he could never let her go. Not ever again. Oh God. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and it felt like coming home. She still tasted the same. How could she still taste the same? How could he still want her so much?  
  
Spike pulled away before the kiss could turn to something else, and they stared at each other, panting. Spike blinked and tried to clear his head, he couldn't do this. Not right now, maybe not ever. "Slayer, you better go to bed. You look tired."  
  
"Spike?" She looked as confused as he felt, but he couldn't deal with anything more tonight. He couldn't risk doing anything else.  
  
"See you in the morning." He turned and entered his bedroom, the door clicking behind. The lock sounded ominous and loud as he turned it, but it didn't drown the choked sob and the slamming of Buffy's door. 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
  
Spike stayed in his room, avoiding Buffy and Joyce while they got ready for the day. He didn't leave until they had left for the day, and he had the house to himself. All night he dreamt about kissing Buffy. He wondered what she would have done if he had knocked on her door. Would she let him in? Did he even want to be let in to her world?  
  
After he had breakfast, he wondered back upstairs into Buffy's room. He was curious about those letters. Maybe if he read a few of them, he could understand exactly what was going on in her head. Or maybe not; he never understood her anyway.  
  
The letter he pulled out was written just two days after the first one, according to the date. The ink ran in a few places, and the paper looked rumpled, like she had balled it up and thrown it away. He could picture her rummaging through the can and straightening out the paper, trying to make it look presentable again.  
  
Spike, Fine, I'm glad you are gone. You aren't worth all of the trouble, all of this heart break. You think you know me so well. You think you can fix this? This will never be fixed. I will never be fixed. She wrote another paragraph, but scratched it all out. At one point, the paper had even ripped under the force of her pen. Then at the bottom of the page two simple, small words caught his eye.  
  
Come home.  
  
Spike closed his eyes. He wished things had been different. He never planned on staying away for so long. After she had come back, he knew he could never live without her again. He knew he never wanted to live without her again. Now he didn't really want to live with her at all. But his heart still ached for her. He should have stayed and helped her. He shouldn't have gone. She needed him, and he ran.  
  
Spike shook his head, no, he didn't just run away. She knew what happened to him that summer, and everything he did for her and..  
  
".Dawn! What are you doing?" Spike shouted up the stairs.  
  
"I'm getting ready!" She yelled back.  
  
"Your date is here!"  
  
Willow came out of the kitchen, "What's all the shouting about?"  
  
"Just letting Dawn know her friend is here," he said, throwing a cold look at the nervous boy standing on the front porch.  
  
"You didn't even invite him in?" Willow asked. "And you could have gone up to get her."  
  
"Didn't want to leave the boy by himself," Spike explained. "And I'm not going to invite into the house. Are you daft?"  
  
Willow looked at the young man apologetically, "Dawn will be down in a minute. In fact, I'll go up and check on her."  
  
"So," Spike said, turning his attention to the boy, "What's your name?"  
  
"Harold..sir."  
  
"Harold, tell me about yourself."  
  
"Um..I'm a Senior."  
  
"And your dating Freshmen?"  
  
"No.I mean, yes, I mean..I really like Dawn."  
  
"Sure you do Harry." Spike took a step out the door, and Harold backed up to the edge of the porch. "Touch one single hair on your head, and I'll rip out your throat." Spike smiled and his eyes flashed yellow, "Are we clear?"  
  
"Yes, yes sir. Clear as day."  
  
"Good man. Now, where do you plan on going tonight?" Spike asked as he stepped back into the house.  
  
"We're going to see a movie, and then out to dinner with some friends."  
  
"That's nice, be home by 10:30 or.." Spike didn't have time to finish his threat before Dawn came downstairs, with her hair carefully braided and her make-up carefully applied. She looked so mature that Spike was startled for a moment. He had been watching this little girl for the past five months, and all of a sudden she was a young woman. Spike was not happy about the latest development.  
  
"10:30," Spike reminded the girl as she hurried past him. "Ten thirty!"  
  
Dawn smiled at him, acknowledging his request, but didn't promise anything. Spike growled as he shut the door behind them, then pulled his coat on.  
  
"Where are you going?" Willow asked.  
  
"Patrolling."  
  
"You're going to follow them, aren't you?" Willow accused.  
  
Spike shrugged, "So? Someone's gotta keep an eye on them."  
  
"Spike, you don't need to watch her constantly. She can take care of herself," Tara said softly.  
  
Spike sighed and fished for a cigarette. "Can I go out and buy some fags?" "Spike, just relax. You've trained Dawn how to fight, she can take care of herself," Willow assured him.  
  
Spike threw himself down onto the couch without removing his duster. "What are you two up to tonight?"  
  
Willow and Tara looked at each other nervously. Spike could hear their heartbeats increase slightly, but he didn't pay any attention to it. They probably had a night of "spell casting" planned. Didn't matter, it wasn't any of his business. "We're going over to Xander's," Willow said, "You know, watching movies."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Spike said, but he wasn't paying attention to them anymore; he was distracted by Jeopardy. Willow and Tara exchanged a look and then quickly fled the house.  
  
"Don't wait up!" Tara said as she shut the door. Spike grunted in response.  
  
Spike was engrossed in a Lifetime Movie special when 10:30 rolled around and Dawn did not. At 10:45, Spike was frantically roaming the streets, looking for her. He knew that the cemeteries and the forests were both popular places for teenagers to hangout, and hence, popular places for vampires to feed.  
  
Spike decided that when he found the kids, he wouldn't kill Dawn, but he would kill the little bastard she was with. He began devising ways to punish her for scaring him like this. Little bint, 10:30 meant 10:30. Not 10:45, not 11:00. 10:30. He knew she wasn't a stupid girl, so why was he out wondering the streets of Sunnydale looking for her?  
  
It had started to rain pretty hard while he was out, and he decided to check one more cemetery before heading back to the house. Maybe she was there, getting ready for bed, blissfully oblivious to all the trouble she was causing. He almost didn't hear the voices that were lost in the clap of thunder, but he caught the tail end of Willow's nervous giggle.  
  
He frowned, maybe they were patrolling. Without him. In the rain. Without weapons. Fuck. Spike didn't have time to be babysitting the fucking Scooby Gang tonight, he had to baby-sit a 16 year old girl.  
  
"Look, we just need to go back to Buffy's house and get the rest of the ingredients," Willow assured them.  
  
"I thought you said that was the last of the Urns," Xander said.  
  
"Well, it is. But I think we can do something else..."  
  
"Maybe we should just leave it," Tara shouted to be heard over another roar of thunder.  
  
"No!" Willow shouted back, "I'm not leaving her."  
  
Spike was torn. He knew there was something wrong with them, but he also had to check on Dawn. He decided to beat them home, see if Dawn was safe, and then go back. To her grave. To see what the stupid children had done, what kind of damage they had caused.  
  
Dawn, fortunately, was home waiting for him, when he burst through the door, wet and angry. "How long have you been home?" Spike demanded.  
  
"Since, uh, eleven," she said in a small voice.  
  
"Go to your room, you're grounded," Spike said, not looking at her. He was rummaging in the chest for something he could use as a shovel...and a weapon.  
  
"You can't ground me," Dawn said defiantly.  
  
Spike looked up, vamped out, his fury barely concealed. "Dawn, I'm not playing tonight. Go to your room."  
  
Dawn stood by the couch, lip quivering, and Spike stared her down until she turned and ran up the stairs. He closed his eyes. He didn't mean to treat her like that, but something was seriously wrong. He could feel it in his bones. This storm could be the result of whatever those children were playing at...but he thought something much worse than a thunder storm was going on.  
  
He was holding Buffy's favorite axe and smoking a cigarette when they all opened the door. "Spike!" Willow exclaimed. "Are you going out?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"What for? We already patrolled tonight," Xander stated.  
  
Spike flicked his cigarette past them, out the door. "But that's not all you four did tonight, is it?"  
  
"What.what do you mean?"  
  
"What did you guys do?" Spike demanded, his voice and face hard. Suddenly they were all reminded that this was not Dawn's wet nurse, it was a master vampire. A very, very angry master vampire.  
  
"Look, Chip Boy, I don't know what you are.."  
  
Spike lunged for him and pushed him against the wall, holding the axe up to his throat. He ignored the pain in his head, fury completely overriding everything. "What did you do?"  
  
"Apart!" Willow shouted, and Spike was flung away from Xander.  
  
Spike picked himself up and grabbed the axe. "You better hope I don't find anything, and I mean anything, at her grave."  
  
"And what if you do?" Willow challenged.  
  
Spike didn't answer, just smiled. The coldest smile any of them had ever seen, and then he was gone in the torrent of rain. Gone to look for the..  
  
'.Slayer anymore,' The third letter said. I don't want to be The Slayer, and I don't want to be here, and I don't want to be Dawn's sister, and I never want to see you again either. I never wanted to be your girl, damn you! Never nevernever never never never never never..  
  
With every line he read, his heart broke. Fuck. What a mess. How did she pull through this? She made it beautifully, and now she was...she was amazing, like she had always been. God. But coming back changed her in a very basic, fundamental way. She wasn't the woman he knew anymore. Nobody knew her, and he cursed her friends every day she was back, from the moment he found...  
  
*** ..her. He had to find her. He could feel her. He ran through the cemetery to the woods, where her grave was hidden from the monsters and the citizens of Sunnydale. The rain was falling so hard now that he could barely see, but he didn't need his eyes to find it. He knew the path to her grave by heart.  
  
He arrived within minutes of leaving the house, and he thought that some tears were mingling with the rain. He hoped he was wrong. He was almost ready to pray to the God who didn't want him that he was wrong. Maybe they had done it wrong. Maybe they didn't have the right spell. Maybe the broke the Urn. Resurrection spells were notoriously difficult and tricky, and there was no guarantee that it would work. But even worse, there was no guarantee that it would work properly. Something could still dig itself free from Buffy's coffin tonight.  
  
Spike stood still, above her grave marker, straining his ears to hear her heartbeat, or breathing, beneath the dirt. But he couldn't hear anything over the storm, and so he had no choice but to start digging.  
  
As he used the axe to clear the dirt, he shouted her name, over and over. "Buffy! Buffy, luv, can you hear me?" Oh God, Buffy.  
  
The more dirt he scooped out, the harder it rained. There was no doubt in his mind that the powerful magics they were playing with had caused the storm. Which meant that Buffy was probably waiting for him, clawing herself out of her own coffin, getting her beautiful, petite hands bruised and bloody. How could they do this and leave her?  
  
He almost cut off her hand with the axe before he saw it. The second he saw the bloody fingers, he threw the axe away and began clawing at the ground frantically. "Buffy! Buffy hold on! I'm coming."  
  
He didn't realize that Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya had caught up with him, and were frozen at the sight that was before them. Spike looked like an animal, using whatever he could to remove the dirt and reach Buffy, even his teeth. His face was going back and forth from vamp to human, and Willow understood that this was a result of his emotions. She considered helping him, but realized she might get her lungs torn out for her trouble.  
  
"Buffy! Can you hear me?" Spike yelled frantically.  
  
Buffy's response was a muffled scream, and he finally grabbed her hand and began pulling her from her grave. She finally pulled free from the dirt, the coffin, and the afterlife, and both Spike and Buffy fell back. Spike clutched her to them, and even in the rain, the rest of them could hear their sobs and gasps for breath. "What did you do?" Buffy cried, over and over, "What did you do?"  
  
Spike didn't respond, just clutched her tightly to his chest. He was scared to let her go. Scared that this was a dream, a nightmare, and any second he'd wake up and she'd be back in the cold ground. "What did you.."  
  
*** ".do?" Buffy had asked them that when he had pulled her from the ground. It's a question he never had an answer for. Did he somehow wish her alive? Could he have done something to stop them before they went that far? Could he have stopped the powerful witch? He should have tried. One more thing to feel guilty about. It was his fault she died and his fault that she didn't stay dead. 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
  
Buffy sighed and collapsed on the couch. She had fought with Joyce all night, over everything. Joyce didn't want to eat dinner, she didn't want to take a bath, and she wanted to watch music videos like the kids at the day care. She ignored Buffy completely, latching onto Spike and making it clear that she would only listen to him. But to Spike's credit, he did try to help get the child under control.  
  
Finally, at nearly eleven o'clock, she had fallen asleep. Buffy decided to make a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning. Usually Joyce was especially difficult when she had an ear infection, and it wouldn't hurt to go in for a check-up anyway.  
  
Spike had disappeared out the door, away from Joyce's screams and tantrums, at nine. He didn't say he would be back, and she honestly didn't know if she'd see him again. She didn't think he would just run off like that, but what did she know? She also never thought that Spike would hate her, but it appeared that he did now.  
  
She was really tired of the tension between them. He was running hot and cold on her, and she didn't know what to do about it. Should she fight for him, and make him give her another chance? Or should she let him go gracefully? She suspected that Spike didn't want to continue fighting with her, but something was holding him back. Maybe it was the soul.  
  
She felt exhausted, but not tired. She decided to watch some late night movie and try to relax. She wasn't eager to go to sleep. The night before she had the Dream again, the one she hadn't had in years. After they brought her back, she had it every night for nearly three years. It was always the same. The dark, suffocating, cold coffin. Digging her way through mud, but she never could break through. She would dig and dig and dig, but there was always more dirt. In her dreams, Spike wasn't waiting to pull her out and save her. Spike wasn't waiting to carry her home and bandage her..  
  
***  
  
".hands?" Dawn asked. It wasn't the most intelligent question, but she was far too stunned to think of anything else to say. Her sister was very much alive, standing before her, shivering, wet, with her dirty, bloody arms wrapped defensively around her body.  
  
"Bit, go upstairs and start a bath. We'll be right up." Spike's voice was soft, but commanding. It never occurred to Dawn to question him.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Xander demanded. He was nervous and frightened, and as a result, his voice had almost a shrill quality.  
  
"I'm going to take her upstairs and clean her up," Spike said calmly.  
  
"Shouldn't we do that?" Willow asked, "We're her friends."  
  
Spike's voice remained calm, "You've done quite enough for one night." He didn't wait for the witch's response; instead he began helping Buffy up the stairs.  
  
Buffy's eyes were glassy and blank, but she was aware of everything that was going on around her, and she was relieved that Spike was taking care of her. He knew how to be gentle. He knew what she needed. And he saved her from the cold darkness.  
  
"Is there anything else you need me to do?" Dawn asked when they reached the bathroom.  
  
"Find her some clean clothes to sleep in, and get her bed ready," Spike instructed, while he began removing Buffy's wet and filthy clothes.  
  
"Spike?" Dawn asked.  
  
Spike sighed, "Dawn, please go. I'll explain later."  
  
She nodded and went across the hall to Buffy's room, shutting the door behind her. Spike reached over and locked it. He finished undressing her in silence, and then helped her step into the tub, full of hot water. He began gently washing the dirt away without breaking the silence.  
  
"What happened?" She finally asked, when she was clean and relatively warm.  
  
"I don't know," Spike said honestly. "I guess Willow's more powerful than we thought."  
  
"She did this?"  
  
"Willow and the other three. They didn't bother to inform me and Dawn of their plans," Spike said, and she could easily hear the anger in his voice.  
  
"What would you have done if you had known?"  
  
"Stopped them," he said simply. "I would have stopped them."  
  
Spike stood abruptly and grabbed the large, fluffy towel that Dawn had placed on the toilet. He held it open for her, and she stepped out of the tub and into her arms. He wrapped it around her and held her close to his body. "Don't leave me tonight," she whispered.  
  
"Never," he promised. "Come on now, you have to get some..  
  
***  
  
".sleep?" Spike asked.  
  
"Huh?" Buffy asked groggily.  
  
"How long have you been asleep?" Spike repeated, slowly. "Uh, I don't know. What time is it?"  
  
"Around three."  
  
Buffy yawned, "A couple hours. I guess I'll head up to bed. Did you just get in?"  
  
"Yeah, a few minutes ago. Wanted to see if anything had changed."  
  
"Has it?"  
  
"Changed? Well, nobody knows who I am. Guess I have to rebuild my reputation." He smiled at her, "Started tonight by getting a spot of violence in."  
  
"Good, I'm too exhausted to patrol," Buffy said, smiling. He looked and sounded more like the Spike she used to know. She considered this excellent progress. "You going to bed now?"  
  
"Nah, I'm gonna eat something and watch some telly."  
  
"Alright, here, let me pull the shades in case you fall asleep. I don't want to explain the big pile of ashes to Joyce tomorrow."  
  
"I'm smarter than that, Slayer."  
  
She laughed, "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Before she retired to her own room, she stopped to check on Joyce. From the door, the dark room looked perfectly normal and everything seemed all right. Buffy decided to risk waking her up by getting a closer look at her. Her heart always swelled at the sight of the sleeping girl, and Buffy knew she could watch her sleep for hours.  
  
Buffy pulled the blankets back, and then stood frozen at the sight before her. She blinked her eyes several times, praying that she was still asleep and this was a dream. But every time she opened her eyes, the same thing greeted her.  
  
The bed was empty. Save for a piece of paper and a curly lock of soft, red hair. In the dim light, it looked a little like blood. With a shaking hand, Buffy picked up the piece of paper and read the sparse words. She had to reread it three times before the words made sense.  
  
In a daze, she turned and left the room. She walked down the stairs slowly, clutching the note tightly in her hand. She remembered the last time she felt like this. Over eleven years ago, when Glory stole Dawn, she felt these same feelings of helplessness and loss. She continued her way into the kitchen and sat down on the stool before her legs could give out.  
  
"Buffy? Buffy, what's wrong?" Spike asked.  
  
She dropped the note on the counter. Spike picked it up and scanned it. "Oh bloody hell," he muttered. "Do you know who this is from?"  
  
"It's not signed," she said blankly.  
  
"I know, but is there a new Big Bad in town? Anybody you've been fighting lately?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Buffy, please. We won't find her if you can't help me."  
  
"There's a vampire."  
  
"Ok, who?"  
  
"He's known as Corbett. We don't know for sure if he's in town, we've just heard rumors that he might be."  
  
Spike frowned, "I've heard of him. Ok, is there anybody else."  
  
"I don't know..I'd have to call Giles."  
  
"Is he still around?" Spike asked. He assumed that the Watcher was either in England or dead.  
  
"He's in Bath, but he helps me here when he can. I'll call him."  
  
"How about Dawn and Xander?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath. "I don't know."  
  
"You can call them tomorrow," Spike said.  
  
"We should do something now."  
  
"You call Giles, and then we'll go look for clues ok?"  
  
"Right."  
  
As she dialed the phone, Spike re-read the short note. Fear clutched him. He shouldn't have left the house. If he was here, nobody would have snuck into the house and stole his little girl.  
  
"Giles? Did I wake you?" Pause. "Oh, right. Giles, I need your help. It's Joyce." Spike began gathering weapons. "Someone took her, we don't know who. We're going looking right now." He carefully avoided the cross in her weapons chest. "It could be Corbett, we don't know." Buffy paused for several minutes, and Spike set all the weapons down on the table. Stakes, a crossbow, and two axes. "Do you want us to meet you there? Dawn can pick you up. Oh no, it won't be a bother..well, if you're sure. Ok, see you then."  
  
Buffy hung up the phone. "He should be here by late tonight."  
  
"We'll find something tonight."  
  
"Yeah," Buffy said, picking up the ax and carefully examining the blade. "Maybe ahead."  
  
Spike read the note one more time before he slipped it into his pocket. He didn't need to though, the words were burned into his head.  
  
I have the little witch. She may be dead by the time you find this note. She's cute though, maybe I'll keep her. 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21  
  
"Where do you think Corbett's lair is?" Buffy asked.  
  
Spike shrugged, "Haven't been here for ten years. I don't really know."  
  
"Well, vampires don't change much. Where would he have been ten years ago?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe holed up in one of those abandoned factories."  
  
"What is it with vamps and factories?"  
  
"They're large enough for all the minions. And what's the alternate? A hole in the ground? Besides, there's an awful lot of abandoned factories and warehouses in Sunnydale."  
  
"Property values aren't that high. Can't imagine why." She shouldered her axe, "Let's start checking then. Wanna take the car?"  
  
Spike shuddered, remembering the ride home from Angel's place. "No, let's just hoof it."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Spike watched Buffy closely, looking for any sign of weakness that resulted from the shock and horror of losing Joyce. She seemed fine, but Spike was acutely aware of the power of the Slayer, barely contained in her small body. She was furious, and Spike was thankful that her anger wasn't directed at him.  
  
They reached the industrial side of town quickly, and Spike wasn't very surprised to see that it was seedier and more run down than when he left. It seemed everything was closed or abandoned, and he could hear and smell the scurrying vampires and demons everywhere.  
  
"I bet you get more action here than in the graveyard these days," Spike commented.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed, "Compared to the factory district, the graveyards are dead." She paused and grimaced, "No pun intended."  
  
"I don't think we have the time to knock on all these doors," Spike pointed out.  
  
Buffy shifted her weight and thought about their options. It seemed rather stupid to just barge into several large nests, but every second that passed put Joyce in more danger. She was distracted by her thoughts by a large, lumbering vamp running towards her at full speed. She rolled her eyes and sidestepped. He ran straight into the wall behind her and fell flat on his back, dazed.  
  
She stood above him, one foot firmly planted on his massive chest, a stake raised menacingly.  
  
"Who's the master vampire around these parts?" She asked.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
She ground her heel into the vampire's chest and repeated her question. "Michelle."  
  
Buffy looked at Spike. "Good a place as any to start." She looked down, "Where does she live?"  
  
He pointed to the factory directly behind them and Buffy smiled brightly. "Thanks for your help." Before the vamp could blink, she plunged the stake into his heart and took a step back, wiping the dust off of her clothes.  
  
"There probably won't be too many vamps now, they're all out feeding," Spike pointed out.  
  
"So you're saying we should just barge in?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me."  
  
Buffy walked forward purposely, and kicked the door in. "So much for the element of surprise," Spike muttered.  
  
"What's that supposed to me?" Buffy demanded.  
  
"Just saying, you've announced our presence to every vamp in this place."  
  
"Doesn't matter, I'm in the mood for a good fight. Need to flex my muscles." Buffy led the way into the dark corridors of the factory, dusting the minions as she came to them. Spike was happy to have her back, but she never needed his help.  
  
"Where's Michelle?" She asked each one before turning them to dust, but she didn't get an answer until the ninth vamp. "In the back," it growled before it burst into a million little pieces.  
  
"Fantastic."  
  
They finally found the vampiress, holed up in a backroom, being attended to by three female minions. She was tall with long brown hair and a malicious face. Her chocolate eyes sparkled when Buffy and Spike entered the room. "Let me guess," she drawled, "You're the Slayer." She didn't wait for the response before turning her attention to Spike. "But who is that?" She stood up, unwinding her body gracefully. She sniffed the air delicately. "You're a vampire," she said with surprise.  
  
"Well, yeah." He turned his attention to Buffy. "Can you believe nobody remembers me?"  
  
"She was probably turned after you left town."  
  
"Maybe." Spike took a step forward. " 'Lo princess. I'm Spike."  
  
"What's a vampire doing with the Slayer?"  
  
"Passin' time. You the big name in town?"  
  
"For now."  
  
"You expecting visitors?"  
  
The minions stood around their master, waiting for word to attack. Buffy stood with her arms cross, looking casual but ready to fight. "Maybe," Michelle answered.  
  
Spike took another step forward and lowered his voice. "Why don't you share?"  
  
"What's in it for me?"  
  
"The Slayer will kill you quickly instead of prolonging the pain."  
  
Michelle laughed and waved her hand. The minions launched themselves at Buffy, and she took them all out with the same stake. "Is that all you got?"  
  
Michelle moved as if to run right past both of them, but Spike grabbed her by the collar of her dress and slammed her into the floor. "So, 'bout those visitors you're expecting."  
  
The Master vampire hadn't survived so long by being stupid, and she knew when she was beat. Spike was obviously old, and the Slayer was extremely powerful. "Corbett is in town."  
  
Buffy caught her breath. "Since when."  
  
"Last night. He's laying low for now."  
  
"Where?" Spike asked.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Spike grabbed her hair and tugged it sharply. "Where?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Spike drove her face into the ground. "Where?"  
  
"The mansion outside of town."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, "On Crawford Street?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Spike smiled, "Peaches is gonna be pissed someone's squatting in his house."  
  
"Can I go now?" Michelle asked.  
  
"Yeah," Spike said, as he caught the stake Buffy tossed at him. "Bye." He stood up, brushing the dust from his hands.  
  
"Off to the mansion then?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"This is gonna be real fun," Spike muttered as he followed the slayer out of the factory and into the..  
  
***  
  
.cemetery. "Buffy, you aren't ready to patrol yet!"  
  
"Leave me alone, Spike."  
  
"Slayer, listen. You're still weak."  
  
"I think I know my own body," she said coldly.  
  
"So do I," Spike responded, catching up with her. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing. What are you doing out here anyway?"  
  
"Dawn asked me to come check on you."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I don't need you, or anybody else, to check on me. I'm the Slayer, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, I remember. And do you remember that you haven't even trained in at least six.." Spike's voice faltered and he looked at her helplessly. "Could you train first at least?"  
  
"No. I'm fine." Buffy turned and began walking again, this time faster.  
  
"Dawn's scared," Spike called after her.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Losing you."  
  
Buffy snorted, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be stuck here for eternity."  
  
Spike caught up with her and grabbed her arm, "I know this is hard but.."  
  
"How could you possibly know?" She demanded. "How can you possibly know what I'm going through?"  
  
Spike blinked, "I pulled myself out of the grave too, pet."  
  
"You remember where you were before that, Spike?"  
  
"No," he answered slowly.  
  
"I do," she answered softly. "So you can't know what I'm going through."  
  
"Then tell me, Buffy. You don't trust your friends anymore, but you can still trust me."  
  
She stopped and faced him, "You don't want to know, Spike."  
  
"You told me you loved me, Buffy. Do you still?"  
  
"I was in Heaven."  
  
Spike gaped. He shouldn't have been surprised, she was the Warrior of the People, but he was surprised she could remember it. Wasn't there usually a veil spell on these types of spells? Spike sighed, but this was Willow, notorious for botching spells.  
  
"That's where you deserve to be."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Is that why you are being so foolish?"  
  
Buffy's face hardened, "I'm not being foolish. Apparently, I'm still the Chosen One. So I have a job to do."  
  
"I'll do it for you, Slayer."  
  
"Leave me alone, Spike. I just want to.."  
  
***  
  
".fight," Buffy said.  
  
"It's close to dawn," Spike replied. "It may not be the best time to fight."  
  
Buffy frowned. "Let's go check it out, then decide what to do."  
  
They made their way as quickly as possible to the mansion, pausing only twice to slay a few demons. Buffy really enjoyed having Spike watch her back again, even if she didn't need his help. With each year, she grew stronger and Giles once told her that she was the strongest Slayer on record. She tried to not let it go to her head.  
  
"He's definitely there," Buffy said, several minutes later as she peered into the window.  
  
"Any sign of Joyce?" Spike asked.  
  
She shook her head. "Should we go in anyway?"  
  
Spike looked up at the sky. It was already turning pink. "Whatever we do, we've got to do it quickly. I'm running out of time."  
  
"Joyce could be in there."  
  
"Let's do it then."  
  
Buffy hefted her axe and smashed through the window. She jumped through the window. "We're the Sunnydale Welcoming Wagon," she announced. "Heard you're new in town."  
  
Corbett was about the same height as Spike and had long, black hair. It hung past his shoulders. His skin was extremely painful, and it looked like he was wearing stage make-up. He was also wearing a cape. "What are you? A Dracula wannabe? Cuz honestly, I've met the man, and even he can't pull off that look."  
  
Corbett growled, "Who are you?"  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Who do you think?"  
  
"Not you, him." Spike sighed, "Ok, he has no excuse. He's old enough to remember me."  
  
Buffy shrugged, "Maybe it's because you don't have blonde hair anymore. Guess we'll have to kill him."  
  
"You can't take all of us on," Corbett said, his voice confident.  
  
"Well, care to make a bet?" Spike asked with a smirk.  
  
Most of the minions who were there were full of blood and languid, the approaching sun making them drowsy. They were also very young and inexperienced, and it wasn't difficult for Buffy and Spike to dispose of them quickly and efficiently.  
  
"Is that everybody?" Buffy asked.  
  
Corbett stood and removed his cape. "I'll fight you myself."  
  
"That's hardly necessary. You know why we're here," Buffy said.  
  
Corbett vamped out and settled into an attack stance, daring Buffy to beat the answers out of him. Spike rolled his eyes, "Fine, we'll play it your way."  
  
The battle was long, and Spike had to admit that Corbett was a skilled fighter. As far as vampires went, he was a difficult opponent. But after everything that Buffy had been through, a Master Vampire was hardly a challenge anymore.  
  
Spike was there for support, but he enjoyed watching her fight. She still moved with a style and grace that was unmatched by anybody he had ever seen. He knew that she enjoyed the fighting, but that early morning, she was all business. She was trying to keep the fight as short as possible because she wanted answers as soon as possible.  
  
Finally, she had him pinned, the stake touching his chest. "Where is she?" Buffy demanded.  
  
"Who?"  
  
She drove the stake into his chest slightly, "You know who."  
  
"The girl?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I don't have her."  
  
The stake moved deeper and Corbett winced in pain. "What did you do to her?"  
  
"I didn't do anything. It was a paid job."  
  
"Since when do Master Vampires do other people's dirty work?" Spike asked.  
  
"I didn't have a choice."  
  
"Explain it to me."  
  
"It was a God, he wanted me to get him the child. You don't say no to a God."  
  
Buffy's eyes widened. "Who?"  
  
"Why should I tell you? You're just going to kill me anyway."  
  
"That's true," Buffy said, "But if you tell me I can make it fast. If you don't," she nodded at Spike, "he can make it slow."  
  
Corbett eyed Spike who was grinning coldly, armed with a large, wicked looking axe. He was beat. "It was Hades." 


	22. Chapter 22

A/N-I fear from the lack of reviews recently that I have displeased some of you. Is this true?  
  
Chapter 22  
  
"Do you regret it?"  
  
"Regret what, luv?"  
  
"Us."  
  
"Never."  
  
***  
  
"You should get some sleep," Spike said, ushering Buffy into the house. Xander had to drive over to the mansion and rescue them from the sunlight. Despite his bone-numbing fear, Spike couldn't help but pleased that they took out two major vampires. But that didn't matter to Buffy. All that mattered to her was getting her baby back.  
  
"I can't sleep," Buffy muttered.  
  
"You're dead on your feet," Spike pointed out. "I'll wake you in a few hours."  
  
"You promise?"  
  
"I promise."  
  
***  
  
"How about you?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Do you regret it?"  
  
"No."  
  
***  
  
Buffy went to bed like she said she would, but sleep was elusive. Joyce was gone, and she didn't know how to get her back. Willow and Tara would know what to do. She choked back a sob. If Wills was there, the baby wouldn't have been taken to begin with.  
  
She loved Joyce so much. She would move Heaven and Earth to find her, and if it meant descending into the depths of Hell and facing the Devil himself, she'd do it.  
  
"Willow," she whispered, "If you can hear me, please help. I'll do whatever I have to, but please help me find her. You were always my Big Gun, and I can't do this without you."  
  
*** "You were there."  
  
"Where pet?"  
  
"Heaven. Well, your soul was."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I liked him."  
  
***  
  
Spike prowled around the house. He was sure to eat enough to last a few days, because he didn't know what lay ahead of them. It could be anything, even a trip to Hell.  
  
He knew Buffy was awake, he could hear her tossing and turning and talking to herself. She needed to sleep. A tired Slayer was a sloppy Slayer, and they just couldn't risk her not being on her game.  
  
Spike felt completely helpless. He knew the story of Hades and Persephone, and he knew that as far as the myth went, he had no place. This was purely Buffy's gig, and all he could do is offer support.  
  
He finally went upstairs to his own room, and found an envelope on his bad. His name was scrawled across the top in Buffy's girlish handwriting, and he picked it up curiously. When did she have time to write him a letter? Or was this one of the older letters she wrote before, when he was away?  
  
He opened it carefully and scanned the paper.  
  
You asked me once if I had any regrets. I said I didn't, and I meant it. I never regretted being with you, and I don't regret loving you. I have to write this letter for my therapy, in order to seek closure on our issues. There's too many. I wouldn't write a letter, I'd write an entire novel. Or maybe a series. Will you ever read this? I'm so sorry. One day I'll be able to tell you in person.  
  
He slipped the paper into his shirt pocket and sat heavily on the bed.  
  
***  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I could have saved you. I should have saved you."  
  
"It's not your job to save me."  
  
***  
  
Giles arrived earlier than they expected. Buffy was so relieved to see him that she threw herself into his arms. "Please tell me you know about Hades," she greeted.  
  
Giles was taken aback, "Uh, what do you mean?"  
  
"That's who has Joyce," she explained.  
  
"Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How do you know that, Buffy?"  
  
"Corbett told us before we killed him."  
  
"How d you know you can believe him?"  
  
Buffy frowned, "It's all we have to work with."  
  
Xander and Dawn burst into the house then. "I came back as soon as I could, Buffy." The younger girl said, hugging her sister.  
  
"Thanks, I'm sorry you had to cut your trip short."  
  
"It's nothing. What do you need me to do?"  
  
"Giles, Dawn, Xander, you're on research detail. We need to know everything we can about Hades."  
  
"Hades? The Greek God of the Underworld Hades?" Dawn asked.  
  
Buffy sighed, frustrated. "Yes. Just please, get on that. In the mean time, we're going to patrol and look for clues."  
  
Giles looked at Spike and blinked. "I expect you're going to explain the situation to me."  
  
"Yeah, as soon as Joyce is back in one piece, I'll answer any questions you have."  
  
***  
  
"Can you just kiss me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
***  
  
The patrol was fruitless. They turned Sunnydale upside down, but they couldn't find any clues, or anybody who knew anything. The demons weren't interested in talking to the Slayer, and Spike didn't have the pull he used to have.  
  
They were silent most of the night, talking only when they had to. Joyce filled their thoughts, and the close proximity to each other was distracting enough without adding conversation to the mix.  
  
Buffy couldn't hide in her disappointment when they reached her house an hour before dawn, completely empty handed. She smelled of fear, and while Spike once found that fragrance intoxicating, now it only added to his own fears.  
  
"It would be so much easier if Willow was here," they overheard Xander complaining.  
  
"Just keep working Xander," Giles admonished. "We have a lot of information to cover."  
  
"I just miss her," Xander said quietly, and four years of heartbreak laced his voice with tears.  
  
"We all do," Dawn said gently. "Have you read this book yet?"  
  
"No. Are you hungry yet?"  
  
"No, but they should have fresh donuts at the Krispy Kreme in an hour."  
  
"Yeah," Xander agreed weakly, "Chocolate was her favorite." Buffy didn't know if he was referring to Willow or Joyce.  
  
*** "They think you aren't good for me."  
  
"I'll never be good enough for you."  
  
"They don't know what's good for me."  
  
"They just want the best for you."  
  
"They don't care what's best for me."  
  
***  
  
"I don't want to be alone," Buffy said as she entered Spike's room. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"  
  
"Not at all, pet. Don't fancy being by myself either."  
  
She settled on the chair near the bed and began rocking gently. "I used to sit up all night some nights and watch Joyce sleep. I couldn't believe that this beautiful, perfect, little girl was in my life."  
  
Spike smiled slightly, "I used to watch you sleep and think the same thing."  
  
A sob caught in her throat, "Spike.."  
  
He pulled the blanket aside in an invitation, and she gratefully took it, sliding into bed next to him and curling her body into his. It felt like coming home, and Buffy sighed at the sensation. He wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to cry her fear and frustration into his chest.  
  
This time when he kissed her, it didn't feel like the world was exploding. He was drowning in her need, and her love, and her tears. He'd be lost soon, and all that would be left would be her. Maybe if he kissed her long enough, the painful last memories he had of her would be washed away completely, and his heart would no longer cower from her. Maybe if she kissed him hard enough, there would be no need for apologies, because he would be able to taste her sorrow and her sins and she would be redeemed.  
  
Maybe if they could kiss hard enough and long enough, the world would make sense again. 


	23. Chapter 23

A/N-Thank you for the reviews everybody! It helps to know where I stand with my readers.  
  
Chapter 23  
  
"Where have you been?" Buffy demanded.  
  
Spike frowned, "What?"  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"Caught a game at the Alibi Room."  
  
"You didn't tell me you were going out tonight," Buffy said.  
  
"I didn't realize I had to inform you of my whereabouts, Princess."  
  
Buffy grabbed Spike's arm and spun him around, "Don't walk away from me."  
  
Spike shook free from her grasp. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"You," she responded coldly. "I told you we were patrolling tonight."  
  
"And I told you I would patrol later."  
  
"No, you'll patrol when I say you will."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and was about to respond when she punched in the face, hard enough to make his head snap back. "Don't roll your eyes at me."  
  
"Buffy go home." Spike took a deep breath and willed the rage seething inside of him to subside. He was not in the mood to get into a fight with Buffy tonight. He had been caught cheating and thrown out of the game, and then he got into a fight with a huge Yruf demon that didn't like the look of his face.  
  
She punched him again. "Don't tell me what to do."  
  
"Fine, I'll go home."  
  
Buffy glared at him, "Meet me here tomorrow at 9:00. Don't be late."  
  
Spike walked away, casually. 'She's probably just having a bad day,' he reasoned. 'She'll feel better after a decent night's..  
  
***  
  
"..sleep?" Giles asked.  
  
Buffy smiled, "Yeah, we got enough. We're ready for whatever you've got."  
  
Giles sighed, "Unfortunately, it's not much. Beyond the known myths of Hades, there isn't a lot of information. Apparently, he tends to keep to himself."  
  
"Unless it's time to kidnap a child bride," Xander added.  
  
"Yes, well, though that's what he's most known for, he's only done it that one time."  
  
"Then what does he want with Joyce?" Buffy sighed; angry, frustrated, and frightened.  
  
"There's the balance thing," Dawn said.  
  
"What balance thing?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Well, when Willow brought.."  
  
***  
  
..me back, Buffy thought. Never brought me back. The black rage, thick as tar, boiled and seethed inside of her, constantly. She saw the world through lenses of despair and anger. Her hands were constantly clenched into fists that just itched to be buried in Willow's smug face. Some days it was all she could do to keep herself from beating them all into bloody, disfigured corpses.  
  
When she first came back, time with Spike helped alleviate her anger. Just being with him forced her to calm down considerably. She wasn't mad at him. He didn't hurt her. He just held her and listened to her angry diatribes. She could sense that he was furious with her friends for what they did, and that made her feel better too.  
  
But lately, even Spike wasn't safe from her bitter frenzy of hate and disgust. The smallest thing could set her off. A part of her that could view the whole situation objectively begged her to stop yelling at him, hitting him, taking it out on him because he was strong enough to withstand it. But the rest of her just couldn't stop. She felt like she was out of control.  
  
And maybe she was. She had no control over her life or her death. Her sister hated her. Her friends expected something from her, something that she wasn't even capable of giving them. Giles didn't want anything to do with her anymore. She had no control over anything.  
  
Except Spike.  
  
Buffy pasted a fake smile on her face. It was too wide and hurt her face. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. She just had to get through the next hour and then she could disappear into the shadows of the night that were darker than even her own soul. In the shadows she would find.  
  
***  
  
".Spike?"  
  
"What is it Rupes?"  
  
"Do you have time to talk?"  
  
"A few seconds."  
  
"What are you doing back in Sunnydale?" His voice was hard.  
  
Spike shrugged, "Ask Buffy. She dragged me here."  
  
"She said she found you in L.A."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"She said you're different now."  
  
"She sure seems to be saying a lot. Why don't you go talk to her about it?"  
  
"I want to talk to you," Giles said.  
  
Spike put down the axe he was sharpening and picked up a crossbow. "I'm busy. I told you we could talk once we got Joyce back."  
  
"I just want to protect her," Giles explained tightly.  
  
Spike looked up and arched his eyebrow, "Like you protected her ten years ago?"  
  
"You don't know what you are talking about, Spike."  
  
"I know you abandoned her. I know she needed you. I know you have no idea what she went through."  
  
Giles took a step closer, clearly upset. "You left her too."  
  
"I left to get something that would help her," Spike said, reverting his attention back to the weapons. "Which is more than you can say."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You have no idea what she was going through." Spike raised his eyes without lifting his head. "You have no idea how close to the dark she was. You have no idea how dangerous and cold she had become." His voice dropped an octave, "She lost it, Ripper, and you weren't here to help."  
  
***  
  
..her. That's all he wanted to do. But lately she had grown distant and cold, and he really didn't know what she wanted from him. If he wasn't waiting for her when she came calling, she would pound on him until she worked off her frustration and impatience. He normally didn't mind taking the hits. He always enjoyed the physical aspect of their relationship, from violence to sex. But this was different. She was different.  
  
The sex was different. When they had it at all. She always put off his advances. She controlled when they had it, where they had it, and how it was. Again, he didn't mind her being in charge, but each coupling was cold and joyless. There was a fierce determination on her face, like she was trying to get a job done. Like she was trying to prove something to herself or to him.  
  
But he didn't know what to do for her. When Dru was depressed or angry, he would distract her with a new toy or sparkly jewelry. When Harmony was depressed or angry, he didn't care. He sighed. Maybe it would be enough for her if he just continued to be here for her. Watch her back. She would work through this, and he would stay to support her.  
  
"Spike!" Buffy yelled, throwing open the door to the crypt.  
  
He stood up, carefully schooling his face. He didn't want to piss her off too early. " 'ullo Slayer. Ready to patrol?"  
  
"Not tonight. I came by to talk to you."  
  
"What's up love?"  
  
"Don't come over to my house anymore," Buffy said simply.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't want you over. Just stay away from my friends and family."  
  
Spike sought her face for clues. He racked his brains, trying to figure out if he had done anything to piss her off. "Why?"  
  
"Because I said so, that's why." She glared at him with icy eyes, daring him to protest. The way she stood and the tension surrounding her guaranteed that if he questioned her again, he would pay for it.  
  
"What about Dawn?"  
  
He wasn't disappointed. She hit him once, connecting with his right eye. He could already feel it began to swell. "I don't want you to spend so much time with her anymore."  
  
"I took care of her all summer," Spike pointed out. He got a bruised left cheek to match his black eye.  
  
"Well, now I'm here to take care of her."  
  
Spike's arms hung at his side, his hands curled into fists. He wanted to hit her back. If she hit him in the face again, he would hit her back, and damn the consequences. He could live with the chip pain, and she didn't appear to have a stake on her at the moment. Buffy noticed his fists and the anger on his face.  
  
"Are you going to him me?" she taunted. "Go ahead, try it."  
  
"Don't push me, Slayer." His voice was low, barely controlled.  
  
"Come on, Spike. Lay it on me. Here, I'll give you a freebie." She held her arms akimbo, leaving her body open for an attack.  
  
Spike reached for her, deciding to suffuse the information with a different kind of physical attack. But she resisted him and slugged him in the mouth. He snapped, and slapped her across the face, hard enough to make her ear ring. He immediately clutched her head, expecting a bolt of pain, but nothing happened.  
  
Buffy was watching him, her mouth agape. "You're chip."  
  
Spike smiled, but it was more of snarl. "Doesn't work on you, Slayer. What's wrong with you?"  
  
She was still in shock when he swung and connected with her stomach. "Huh, Slayer? What's wrong with you?"  
  
She doubled over, catching her breath. When she finally straightened, Spike was standing in front her, waiting patiently. "You wanna fight, Slayer? Let's do it then."  
  
***  
  
"You weren't here to help her, and I didn't know how."  
  
"You weren't any help at all," Giles said coldly, "she didn't get better until after you left.  
  
"Yeah," he muttered, "I noticed." 


	24. Chapter 24

A/N-A few lines were lifted from Tabula Rasa.  
  
Chapter 24  
  
Buffy walked aimlessly through the streets. She was cold. And sore. She gave as good as she got, but that didn't take away from the fact that the next day she'd be covered with bruises. Her face was crusty where her tears had dried. When did she start crying? When did she stop?  
  
It wasn't right that Spike could fight back. He wasn't supposed to be able to fight back. She was supposed to have all the control; she needed the control. Why did he fight back? Why did Dawn argue with her? Why did Willow follow her with large, imploring eyes? Why couldn't they just leave her alone?  
  
She didn't want to go back to the house, and she couldn't go back to Spike. Not yet. Not after breaking down like that. She was alone, in every sense of the word. Nobody could possibly understand who she was, what she was going through. And would they even care to understand? She was too dark for them. Too dark for all of them, except Spike.  
  
And she suspected that Spike wasn't dark enough for her.  
  
The isolation and anger hung around her neck like an albatross, and it got heavier as she walked. The bruises blooming across her face would be a short-term distraction from the bruises inside her mind. It wasn't right that she should hate the world so much. Wasn't she once told that the Slayer was full of love?  
  
Was she even the Slayer anymore? She still had the strength, but she was quite certain that the Slayer was not supposed to envision her friends and family begging her to stop hurting them. She was quite certain that the Slayer was not supposed to beat her boyfriend until they both broke down.  
  
But she couldn't force these feelings away, and she felt like she was walking a tight rope hundreds of feet above the ground. And any second, the rope would snap, sending her plunging in a dark abyss she'd never be able to escape.  
  
She turned east and headed towards her house. The sun was rising in her eyes. They would wonder why she was out all night. Dawn would get that I'm so picked on look in her large blue eyes. Willow would pretend that nothing happened, while flinging silent accusations at her, angry that Buffy wasn't the good ol' Buffster. And Buffy would stare silently back, pleading with them to just give her one reason to give into her violent impulses.  
  
God, when would this...  
  
***  
  
".end?" Dawn asked, wearily rubbing her eyes.  
  
Buffy shook her head, "No, it doesn't. Why don't you head upstairs and get some rest?"  
  
"But I want to help."  
  
"You'll be a bigger help to me if you aren't falling asleep over the books," Buffy pointed out. "I promise, I won't let you sleep long."  
  
Dawn smiled, "Ok, if you promise."  
  
Buffy turned her attention to Xander. "You should go home and get some sleep and a shower."  
  
"No, Buff, I'm fine. Really."  
  
"Xander, I'm going to need your help tonight. You need to be rested and clear-headed."  
  
Xander nodded, conceding the point. "I'll be back before sunset."  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
As soon as she was alone, Buffy slumped on the couch. She needed to think. She needed to process what Giles had told her. Her Watcher suspected that Hades took Joyce as a trade-off. A life for Buffy's. And because Willow was the one who brought her back, Hades took Willow's child.  
  
That made sense on one level, but if he was trying to balance the scales, why not just take Willow herself? And why not do it sooner? It was almost 12 years since Buffy rejoined the land of the living. Giles speculated that Willow and Tara's untimely death was in order to pay off the debt, but their lives weren't enough to make up for a Slayer's.  
  
Or maybe Hades was just another God that wanted to die at her hand. Either way, Buffy would be more than happy to oblige him. She would do anything to get Joyce back.  
  
She could hear Spike in the kitchen, muttering quietly to himself while he finished getting her weapons cleaned and sharpened. After last night, she needed to talk to him. He didn't push her away last night, but this morning he acted like nothing happened. Didn't even spare her a smile. He just got right to work.  
  
For the first time, Buffy was really beginning to understand that Spike did not want to be with her. He hadn't forgiven her. Everybody else had forgiven her, so she just assumed Spike would too. Even Dawn forgave her, and if anybody had a reason not to, it was..  
  
***  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're going to be late for school if you don't get your ass down here now!"  
  
Xander held up a hand, "Calm down Buff, she's not that late."  
  
"She's got to learn to be more responsible. You have things you have to do too."  
  
"I really don't mind waiting a few extra minutes."  
  
Buffy spun around and pinned him with her cold green eyes, "She needs to understand that the entire world does not revolve around her. I'm tired of how selfish she is."  
  
"Give her a break, Buffy. She's only 16."  
  
"When I was 16, I was saving the world. I think she can manage to get to school on time."  
  
Dawn finally came down the stairs, looking at her sister warily. "Ready," she announced.  
  
Buffy rounded on her, "It's about time. You come straight back today from school. And if you are even one minute late, you will be grounded."  
  
"But Buffy, I have a.."  
  
"I don't care!" Buffy said tightly. "You heard me."  
  
"But that's not fair."  
  
"Life isn't fair, Dawnie."  
  
"I just don't see why..."  
  
Buffy grabbed Dawn's long, shiny ponytail and jerked slightly. Dawn gasped with pain and shock, and Xander jumped up. "Because I said so, that's why." Buffy's voice never changed pitch or volume. She held onto Dawn's hair for another moment longer and then let go abruptly. "Now go to school."  
  
Dawn glared at her sister and Xander looked on with shock. Buffy's face was stony and impassive as she watched them drive away from the front door. She was tired of Dawn constantly arguing with her. She needed to learn who was the boss around here. As a matter of fact, some changes were going to be made right now.  
  
Buffy grabbed several large garbage bags and marched up to Dawn's room. She opened the closet and began tearing the clothes out of it. Many things were far too short or too tight. The clothes that Dawn had stolen from her sister were put in one pile. The clothes that Buffy deemed inappropriate for Dawn were thrown in the bag. Buffy would go shopping with Dawn this weekend for clothes that were decent.  
  
Buffy then turned her attention onto Dawn's desk. There wasn't much there. Some diaries and pictures, scraps of paper, old homework. She rummaged through the drawers, looking for anything bad and found a few romance novels. She decided she would throw those out with the clothes. She went through the dresser next and then pulled all the stuff from underneath the bed.  
  
What she found enraged her. There was tons of jewelry, some still had price tags. There were a few pieces she recognized from the Magic Shop, and even a ring or two that belonged to Spike. Buffy was so angry that she was shaking. How long had this been going on? Who taught her to do this? Spike? He was the most likely candidate.  
  
She growled with anger. What did Dawn want? To go to prison? She went through the stolen items, categorizing them and trying to figure out which stores they came from. Dawn was going to be grounded for the rest of her life. She tried to stay calm and think about a rational punishment. When Dawn comes home, she would calmly present the evidence against her, calmly explain why exactly she was stupid, and then calmly ground her to her bedroom until she turned 21.  
  
By the end of the morning, Buffy had thrown away two large bags full of Dawn's belongings and had confiscated at least three-dozen other items. She cleaned the house until Dawn got home, trying to work off all her energy. She wanted to be rational and collected when she confronted Dawn. Otherwise Dawn could be hurt.  
  
Buffy was pleased when Dawn came through the door at exactly 3:30. At least she was pleased about something.  
  
"Dawn, don't go up to your room?"  
  
"What Buffy?"  
  
"Sit down."  
  
Dawn sat down tentatively. "What's wrong, Buffy."  
  
Buffy opened one tightly closed hand to reveal several necklaces and two types of lipstick. "Where did you get this?"  
  
"Buffy, I can explain."  
  
"So? Talk."  
  
"Ok, a friend bought me.."  
  
"Don't lie to me."  
  
"But a friend.."  
  
"Goddamnit Dawn! Do not lie to me. Or you will be sorry."  
  
Dawn lifted her chin defiantly and looked at Buffy with hard eyes, "What are you going to do? Hit me?"  
  
Buffy moved so quickly that Dawn didn't even have time to flinch before Buffy's open palm slammed across Dawn's cheek. "Wanna try again?"  
  
When Dawn finally raised her eyes, they were so full of betrayal and hurt that Buffy almost felt bad. Almost. But her hand itched to hit Dawn again. Dawn didn't answer though. Buffy could feel her pulse began to race, and had the presence of mind to send Dawn to her bedroom before things really got out of hand.  
  
She needed to see Spike tonight. He was a safe outlet. He could take what she needed to dish out. She just needed to get out of the..  
  
***  
  
".house!" Spike complained.  
  
"The sun never bothered you before," Buffy pointed out.  
  
Spike glared at her. "How much longer until the sun sets?"  
  
"About another hour."  
  
"Is there anything else we need to do?"  
  
Buffy looked at the full weapon chest. "I don't think so. I think we're set."  
  
"Do we even know what we need to be set for?"  
  
Buffy sighed, "No." She paused. "Though Dawn had an idea."  
  
"Yeah? What was that?"  
  
"She wants to contact Willow," Buffy said softly.  
  
Spike blinked. "What?"  
  
"On the astro-plane, or something."  
  
"That's pretty powerful magic, Slayer. Who around here can pull that off?"  
  
"She says she could with Giles' help. Dawn's been studying magic for several years now."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, she's good."  
  
"You up for that?"  
  
"Seeing Willow? I.I don't know. I think so. We don't have any other leads."  
  
"When does Dawn want to do this?"  
  
"Tonight."  
  
"Sounds like a plan then."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. It had been so long. Could she really talk to..  
  
*** .Willow. The witch needed to understand that she had to back off on the magic. Spike sighed, it seemed as though she was completely out of control. Nobody else understood this, except maybe the Watcher. Everybody went along, thinking everything was just a-ok. Even Glinda.  
  
But everything was not ok. He knew they were all going to have a Scooby Meeting that night at the Magic Box. He overheard Dawn and Willow talking about it when he was lurking out side their house the night before. He would just head over there and voice his opinion.  
  
Spike snorted, 'Great plan that. And while you're at it, why don't you tell them all you're shagging the Slayer?' Well, he would go over there anyway. At the very least, he could meet up with Buffy and do some patrolling afterward.  
  
As soon as the sun slinked close to the horizon, Spike rushed to the Magic Box. He burst into the door, interrupting Giles' little speech. Spike smiled, "Don't mind me."  
  
"What do you want Spike?" Xander demanded.  
  
"Nothing," Spike said, casually sitting on the counter.  
  
Giles rolled his eyes, then shifted his attention back to the real Scoobies. "I'll jump to the chase. I'm head back to England, and I plan on staying there..indefinitely."  
  
"Now?" Xander asked. "Not now. Not after everything."  
  
"Yes now," Giles responded.  
  
Buffy jumped up, "I can't do this. And I just can't take it anymore. If you guys knew how it feels, how I felt.."  
  
Spike ached to go over to her, to gather her up in his arms and assure her that she would be ok. He wanted to hold her until she didn't need his strength anymore. But before he could move, blackness passed over him. He could feel himself falling and he had one, fuzzy thought.  
  
***  
  
..magic. Spike hated magic. But if that's what they had to do, then that's what they would do. Whatever it took. 


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25  
  
"What's wrong Cordy?"  
  
Cordelia looked up from the paper she was examining. "What's this?"  
  
Angel looked at it and frowned. "Where did you get that?"  
  
"I was cleaning out your pockets, taking care of laundry, and I found this. Is this what I think it is?"  
  
"What do you think it is?"  
  
"I think it's instructions on how to get a permanent soul."  
  
"Yeah, it is. Spike left it for me."  
  
"Why didn't you saying anything?"  
  
"I didn't know what to do. I don't know if I can trust him. I mean, it's Spike."  
  
"Yeah, Spike. Who went and got a soul for the woman he loves." She looked up at Angel then, her eyes wide with a hint of moisture. "Were you just going to keep this from me forever?"  
  
"No, Cordelia, I just needed time to think about this."  
  
"What's to think about? This is the chance to get rid of Angelus forever. This is our chance to really be together, Angel."  
  
"I know," he said, feeling helpless. "I know. But I just don't know if I can do it."  
  
"You don't know if you can get rid of Angelus?"  
  
"He's a part of me," Angel said weakly.  
  
"Angel, I can't live like this anymore. I'm haunted by the memory of Angelus, and so are you. We both.  
  
***  
  
..remember anything, not even his name. He looked around at the other people in the room, who all stared back. More birds than gents, and most of them were pretty good looking too. A red head, two brunettes, and two blondes. One in particular caught his eye. He'd have to get to know her better. Well, if she knew who she was, that is.  
  
"Uh, who are you people?" The youngish brunette asked. Fear crept into her voice, "You aren't going to hurt me, are you?"  
  
The hot blonde put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I don't know anybody either. But we'll figure this whole thing out. Does anybody remember anything?"  
  
"I don't," an older man said, polishing his classes. "But I appear to be a man, and uh, British."  
  
As the rest tried to figure out who they were, and what exactly, was going on, he sidled closer to the hot little blonde. She turned towards him, "What about you? Do you have any ID?"  
  
He checked his pockets, but didn't find a wallet. "No."  
  
"Neither do I." She pointed at the brunette, "According to her necklace, she's Dawn."  
  
The older man looked up, "Well, my name is Rupert. Everybody else?"  
  
"Willow."  
  
"Alexander."  
  
"Anya."  
  
"Tara."  
  
All eyes moved towards the two blondes, standing side by side. "We don't have any ID. But I feel like a Joan," she stated.  
  
Dawn arched an eyebrow. "Joan? That's not a very interesting name."  
  
"What's wrong with Joan? I like Joan."  
  
"It's a lovely name," he provided.  
  
"What's your name?" Willow asked.  
  
He frowned and thought about for a few moments and looked at Joan. "What do you think?"  
  
"Randy?"  
  
"Randy?! No, that's a stupid name."  
  
"Well, you asked my opinion."  
  
"I like Byron."  
  
Joan examined him, "It doesn't suit you."  
  
"You don't even know who Byron is."  
  
"So? You still don't look a Byron to me."  
  
"But I look like a Randy?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He shrugged. She was cute. If she wanted to name him Randy, he was fine with that. "Fine, I'm Randy." He smirked, "Can you help me take care of that?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Rupert cleared his throat. "Never mind what he means. We have to figure out what to do next."  
  
"Maybe we should go to the hospital?" Tara suggested.  
  
"But we don't know where the hospital is at," the husky boy pointed out. What was his name? Oh right, Alex.  
  
"Well, we can't just stay here. We could be in danger," The red head said.  
  
Randy didn't really care what they decided, but he did want to get some time alone with Joan. "Maybe if we familiarize ourselves with our surroundings, our memories will come back," he said.  
  
"Huh?" Dawn said.  
  
"You know, wonder around, and see what we can find."  
  
"I really think we should go to the hospital," Tara repeated.  
  
"Maybe you're both right," Joan said, diplomatically. "Does anybody know what type of shop this?"  
  
Willow picked up a book. "Magic for Beginners," she read out loud. She looked up, excited, "It must be a magic shop!"  
  
"Magic? That's all balderdash and chicanery!" Rupert protested.  
  
Anya moved behind the register, curious about the receipts and how much money was there. She couldn't remember anything, really, but she remembered that she liked money. "It appears that Rupert and I own this magic shop," she announced. "Our names are on the receipts."  
  
"Maybe we lost our memories because of magic," Dawn suggested.  
  
Blah blah blah, Randy thought. All he wanted was five minutes alone with her. "Why don't some of you go to the hospital, some of you stay here and see if you can suss out the magic thing?" He suggested.  
  
They separated into two groups. Rupert and Anya would stay at the shop; the rest would go to the hospital. Randy followed them outside without a word, plotting the ways he could separate Joan from the rest of them. He lagged behind the rest of them, and to his joy, she slowed down and walked with him.  
  
"This lot will be fine," Randy said, "why don't we go off and uh.explore a bit?"  
  
Joan frowned, "Explore? Do you really think that's a good idea, given our current situation?"  
  
In response, he took her hand. She didn't pull away. Keeping one eye on the people ahead of them, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. He looked at her with dancing blue eyes, daring her to make him stop. She didn't. He stopped walking and pulled her closer to him and gently captured her lips. Her body instantly responded. She couldn't remember him, but her body obviously did.  
  
He pulled back and winked. She was flushed and breathing a bit heavily. "Wanna go explore?" He asked again.  
  
"Yeah. What's behind that tree over there?"  
  
The rest of the group didn't notice when they lost two of their merry band. As soon as Joan and Randy were out of sight, they fell upon each other. The attraction was almost primal, and neither could stop. It seemed that once they kissed, a dam was open and both of them were swept away.  
  
"We should do this," she gasped as he undid her pants.  
  
"No, we shouldn't," he agreed, but he didn't stop and she didn't try to get away.  
  
Joan unzipped his pants, and was briefly surprised that he was slightly cold to the touch. She pushed the thought out of her mind when he lifted her up and pushed her against the tree. She barely registered the rough bark against her back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He slipped into her quickly and they both moaned with relief in unison. It felt like he was coming home. He didn't know how or why, but he knew that they had done this many, many times before.  
  
Soon instinct took over, and Randy felt his face changed. Joan gasped in fear, but he didn't notice. When he had buried his cock as deep into her as possible, he sunk her fangs into her throat. He didn't want to kill her, or even hurt her, but it seemed to him the most natural thing to do.  
  
Just as he was about to explode with the combined pleasure of having his teeth and cock deep inside of her, she pushed him onto the ground, stake poised above his heart. "What's going on Spike?" She demanded. Blood still running down her neck.  
  
He blinked, trying to clear his head. "What?"  
  
"What did you do to me?" She demanded.  
  
"I didn't do anything," he protested. She shoved the point into his chest and he winced. "Buffy, I didn't do anything."  
  
"You bit me."  
  
"I didn't know what I was doing," he explained.  
  
"You put a spell on me," she insisted, shoving the stake deeper.  
  
"Buffy, listen to me. Who do we know that's good with spells? Her hair is red, her name rhymes with pillow."  
  
"You think Willow did this?" Buffy looked uncertain, but she took the stake away from his chest. "You bit me."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
She stood up, and without looking at him, began to walk away. "Buffy!"  
  
She didn't turn around, but he could easily hear her response. "You bit me. You bit me where Angel bit me."  
  
Spike hit the ground with anger and frustration, but mostly anger. He saw the hurt and confusion in Buffy's eyes, and knew that whatever had happened tonight would just make things worse for her, harder on her. God he was going to kill Willow. If Buffy didn't get to her first. He jumped up and zipped his pants, and ran after her. He eventually caught up with her in front of her house. She was standing on the front lawn, arms crossed, a blank look on her face.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike asked tentatively. She didn't look up, didn't answer.  
  
"Tara please!" He heard Willow from down the block, they both turned to watch the two women hurrying up the street. "Tara, I'm sorry." Tara didn't stop or acknowledge Willow's pleas. As they watched, she hurried past them and into the house, without so much as a glance. Willow tried to follow, but Buffy stepped in her path.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Buffy, let me by, I need to talk to Tara."  
  
"No, you need to talk to me."  
  
Willow's eyes flashed black and the hair on Spike's neck and arms stood on end. The magic made the air around them crackle with energy, but Buffy didn't appear to be ruffled. Instead she pulled back and hit Willow in the face with all her strength. Willow flew across the lawn and hit the tree.  
  
Spike jumped forward and grabbed Buffy, pushing her to the ground and shielding her with his body. "What." But she didn't have time to finish her question when a bolt of magic hit Spike and paralyzed him. Buffy pushed him off of her and charged Willow. "Fix him."  
  
"Buffy, I didn't mean to." Willow had never seen Buffy look like that, half crazed with anger. Her eyes were flashing and fear welled up inside of Willow. "See, I can fix it." She pointed her finger at Spike and he quickly stood up.  
  
Spike grabbed Buffy from behind and tried to pull her away. "Slayer, you don't want to fight her right now."  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
Willow's nose was dripping blood and both of her eyes had bruises forming under them. "No, you don't Slayer. Come on, come with me."  
  
"She doesn't have to go with you if she doesn't want to," Willow stated.  
  
Buffy glared at her friend, "Since when do you care what I want? Well, you know what else I want? I want you out of my house by the time I get back."  
  
"But."  
  
"Out."  
  
She spun around on her heal and stalked off into the night. Spike shrugged and turned to follow.  
  
"This is all your fault," Willow said coldly.  
  
"Red, you hurt Buffy tonight in more ways then I ever could. You've done more things to destroy her than anybody else ever has." Then he turned and chased after his lover. 


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The days since Buffy returned bled into week and then into months. Spike kept waiting for things to get better, but if anything, they got worse. He was extremely worried about the niblet, but he was ashamed to admit that he was scared of provoking Buffy's wrath, so he never went to check on her. 

But finally, after a particularly nasty night of fucking and beating, Spike had to make sure that she was only taking this anger and disgust out on him and not losing her temper with Dawn. He could handle her abuse, but Dawn could not. 

He waited until he was sure she was out patrolling, and then made his way quickly and quietly to the house. He tried to go inside, but was not really surprised when he saw that she put the barrier back up, uninviting him from her house and her life. He went over to Dawn's window and threw stones at it until she finally opened it. 

"What's going on?" Dawn asked. 

"Nothing, bit, I just wanted to make sure that you are ok. Haven't seen you in awhile."

Dawn didn't ask why Spike had stopped coming around. She wasn't a stupid girl, she new that it was Buffy's fault. But she was still angry with him, and the world, because he couldn't protect her and couldn't stop Buffy. 

"I'm ok, Spike."

"Has she…?" Spike couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of Buffy actually hurting Dawn was so distasteful, so _wrong_, that the words didn't want to leave his mouth. He was really beginning to hope that what came back was not Buffy. That Willow had fucked up the spell, and all they had to do was reverse it. That Buffy was still in heaven, her soul not dirtied by the awful black death that seemed to plague her. 

"She's been ok the past couple of days." Dawn's answer really didn't reveal anything. "I mostly just stay out of her way." 

"Good plan, bit. Don't worry, we'll figure out a way to fix this."

"Can it be fixed? I think they messed up big this time, Spike." 

"Yeah, we'll figure out something. We always do." 

"You better go now," Dawn said, "before she comes home." 

"Right. I'll come back as soon as I can," Spike promised, then turned to walk away and ran right into the Slayer.

"What are you doing here?" She asked coldly.

"Going for a walk."

"You were talking to Dawn. I told you not to talk to Dawn anymore."

"Slayer, I was…." Buffy cut him off with a hard right to the mouth. 

"I don't care what you're doing. Just get out of here."

"With pleasure."

Buffy watched him go, holding herself back from chasing after him and hitting him again for disobeying her. Why couldn't they just listen to her? Would it be so difficult to do what she asked for once? 

She would worry about Spike after she took care of Dawn. Buffy decided she would pay him a little visit that…..

~*~

"…night," Giles explained. "If we wait any longer, Joyce could be put in horrible danger, and the spell can only be performed on a few nights a month."

"But I don't even know what I'm doing," Buffy protested. "I've never done anything like this before."

"You can do it," Giles assured her. "We'll serve as anchors." 

"So, where exactly am I going? Heaven?"  
  


"No, not quite. If the spell works, both you and Willow will be called to the Netherworld. It's a dimension that acts as an intermediary between Earth and the afterlife," Giles explained. 

"How would Willow know where Joyce is?" Dawn asked. 

"She might have information we're not privy to," Giles answered. "I know it's a long shot, but I really don't know what else we can do if our suspicions are correct." 

"I'm a little scared," Buffy confessed. "Remember what happened last time I came back?"

Giles smiled slightly, "Buffy, it won't be like that at all."

She took a deep breath, "Ok, when do we start?" 

"As soon as it's dark." 

Buffy nodded and then went in search of Spike. She wanted to tell him about the latest plan and get his opinion. She found him in the kitchen, idly scanning through the newspaper.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Buffy asked. 

"Carnage, destruction, the usual."

"Any mysterious deaths involving neck wounds?" 

"None this morning. So that's something."

"I'm going to the Netherword," Buffy said, casually popping a grape in her mouth. 

Spike looked up from the newspaper. "Come again?"

"Giles said that the best thing we can do now is talk to Willow."

"Did Giles explain the risks of that particular kind of magic?" Spike asked slowly.

"Um, no. He said you guys would be the anchors and I'd be safe." 

"Well, if Giles says so." 

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I didn't say that. We'll do what we have to do." 

"Have you ever known anybody who tried this?" Buffy asked. 

"Once."

"What happened?"  
  


"Oh, nothing. I'm sure they did it wrong." 

"That's not very reassuring, Spike." 

"I'm doing my best to…

~*~

"…help!" Spike yelled back. "Jesus, what is wrong you? I'm tired of all your shit."

"Nothing is wrong with me, Spike. I'm just tired of dealing with everybody's demands and whining. I'm the Slayer, so I'm in charge." 

"And that means you need to hurt your little sister."

"She should learn to keep her smart mouth shut," Buffy explained coolly. "A lesson you need to learn to." 

Spike studied her face, looking for any signs of the girl he used to know. She wasn't there. In her place was some sort of monster, and for the first time since he knew Buffy, fear curled in his belly. 

"Slayer, listen…"

"I'm tired of listening." Buffy took a step towards him. "I'm tired of listening to you, and I'm tired of you trying to _help_ me. I don't need your help. I don't need anything from you."

"Then leave," Spike invited. "Just go and don't come back." 

"You can't tell me what to do." 

"Slayer, if you hate me so much, then just fucking go. There's no reason for you to stay around here."

"I'll decide when I leave, Spike." She punched him in the stomach. "And I'm not nearly tired yet." 

At first, Spike was able to defend himself from her blows. He refrained from hitting back, and stayed on the defensive as much as possible. But the simple fact was that Buffy had always been stronger than him, and now her anger fueled her indiscriminate punches and jabs. She hit him everywhere, connecting with his solid flesh until bones smashed under her hands. 

Blood flowed freely from his mouth, his nose, his ears, and even his eyes. There were open gashes on the back of his head where she slammed it into the cement walls of the crypt, and abrasions on his back from the hard floor. His vision blurred and he grew dizzy, making it nearly impossible for him to block her effectively, or even hit back. She kicked him in the knee, and he heard the bone shatter. Even as he fell to the ground at her feet, unable to support his own weight anymore, she didn't stop. 

While she pounded him, he stayed silent. He didn't beg for her to stop, or try to reason with her. His lips were swollen and several of his teeth were loosened. But Buffy was silent. With her punches fell a thousand furious words, curses, shouts, and screams. Rage rained down on Spike from above, and there was nowhere to turn to escape it. 

"You think that you can love me, and it'll all be ok again? You think you can save me? You think you can help me? You think you can save Dawn? You can't, Spike, because you are nothing but a disgusting, dirty, piece of shit. You're just an animal who can talk and has enough sense not to piss down your own leg. Fuck you, Spike. _Fuck you_." 

She was crying now, but the tears looked red to Spike, through the veil of his own tears and blood. His body grew numb, and it was easy to take the physical abuse. But he would give anything to stop the words. They echoed in his brain and in his heart, and with each assault, a little piece of him died inside. The words battered him, and the more he heard, the more he believed them to be true. 

"You are a sorry excuse for a…

~*~

"…vampire there Spike. You're already dead," Giles explained.

"So?"

"So, it wouldn't work."

"Well, maybe if I were a normal vampire, but I have a soul."

"Spike, I appreciate that you want to help Buffy, but this is something she has to do."

"Giles, I've seen this spell done before, and it wasn't pretty."

"I know it can be dangerous," Giles responded, "but we know what we're doing."

"No, we don't have a fucking clue what we're doing. Red would know what she's doing. But we do not."

"I assure you that I know quite a bit about magic, and I…"

"That doesn't cut it, Watcher," Spike interrupted. "You need to have real power to do this spell, and all of us combined don't have the power that's needed." 

"We are going to have to take that chance—"

Spike slammed his fist down on the counter and pain reverberated up his arm, but he didn't wince. "No, Watcher, we cannot take that chance with Buffy."

"Do you have a better suggestion, Spike? Because honestly at this point, I'm open to anything."

Spike took a deep breath. "No, I don't. I don't have shit, ok? I just don't want Buffy to get…

~*~

"…hurt, Spike? Does it hurt when I do this?" 

She had been working him over for so long that he could feel the bones she broke originally already knitting themselves back together. She didn't even break a sweat. "Dirty and disgusting. I can't believe I let you touch me. I can't believe I let you fuck me." 

She pulled a stake out of her back pocket and poised it above his heart. "I can't believe you thought that I could actually love a disgusting, soulless thing." She began to lower the stake onto his…

~*~

…naked chest, and she couldn't look away. "Sorry," she mumbled as she quickly closed the bathroom door. Spike emerged seconds later.

"Don't be, just cleaning up a bit before the fun begins." 

"Yeah, well, it's beginning in a few moments."

"Nervous?" 

"A bit. But I'm excited too. I mean, it's Willow."

"I won't let anything happen to you," Spike promised. 

"I know." 

~*~

She missed his heart.

~*~

They formed a small group around Buffy, grasping hands tightly, as Giles began to chant. She closed her eyes and emptied her mind using the techniques Giles had taught her two lifetimes ago. 

At first the words were distinct, but soon they blended and swirled around her, and eventually turned to a low drone of sound in the back of her mind. She opened her eyes then, and saw only darkness. Tentatively, she tried to move, but if she succeeded, she couldn't tell. 

The volume of the drone increased and light burst in front of her eyes. It was a sunrise, but the sun was the color of a blood clot. It blinded her at first, but her eyes adjusted and she strained them to see something, anything, but the only thing in that dismal world was her and the distant red ball of fire. But on the horizon, Buffy saw a woman's silhouette moving towards her. 

"Willow?" She yelled and moved towards the distant figure. As Buffy ran towards her, the woman continued to walk sedately and slowly. When Buffy finally caught up with her, she pulled her into a bear hug. 

"Hello Buffy," Willow said warmly, hugging her friend back tightly. 

"I've missed you so much," Buffy whispered, tears clogging her throat. 

"I've missed you too. But we don't have a lot of time, Buffy. We need to talk. I know why you're here. It's about Joyce."

Buffy nodded. 

"There's a balance, in the Universe Buffy. And those with the greatest sins have to pay the greatest price."

"What? I don't know what you mean." 

"You do, Buffy."

"But I apologized, you forgave," she protested, "it's over now." 

"For us, maybe," Willow explained patiently, "But there are still people living with the scars you inflicted." 

"Do you mean…

~*~

…Spike lay on the ground, unable to move. Buffy was gone, but the stake still protruded from his chest, just below his heart. She missed, deliberately. A part of Spike wished that she had just ended it…for both of them. But no, she kept him alive so that tomorrow night and the night after and the night after that she could come back and do it all over again. She could continue to treat him like this because he wasn't human enough for her. Not anymore.

He didn't have a soul. 

In Spike's mind, that's all he could remember. The beating faded away, but those words continued to haunt him as he lay in the pool of his own blood. He wasn't human. He wasn't Angel. He wasn't worth her time or attention or love.  

He couldn't save her. He didn't know how, and he didn't realize until now that he needed to save himself. 

He would start by removing the stake from his chest. The action wore him out though, and he was forced for several minutes to rest before he could begin the long and slow process of dragging himself across the floor to the fridge. He needed to replace the blood he lost as soon as possible. 

Despite it all, Spike was determined to fix…

~*~

"…it," Willow encouraged. 

"But Joyce doesn't deserve to pay for my mistakes!" Buffy raged. 

"She isn't paying," Willow soothed, "she's fine. _You_ are the one who is suffering, not her." 

"Who decided to take her away from me?" Buffy demanded.

Willow shrugged, "The Powers. She misses you, though." 

"How can I redeem myself?" Buffy asked. "I don't know what to do." 

"You haven't come to terms with what you've done to Spike. You loved him at the time, and you hurt him beyond words."

"I still love him," she said softly. "But Spike knows I'm sorry."

"Does he?"  
  


Before Buffy could answer, she was back to her own living room. Everybody crowded around her, staring, nervous, excited to hear what she learned. 

"I'm sorry, Buffy. We were losing our connection with you and thought it would be best to bring you back while we still had enough power," Giles explained. 

"Yeah, ok. It's ok."

"Did you see Willow?"

Buffy looked up at her sister, "I did."

"And?"  
  


"And, I can't talk about it right now. I just need some…

~*~

…time is what Spike needed. He knew he could find what he wanted; he just needed a bit of time. As soon as he healed up, he'd leave. And when he returned, he'd have what Buffy needed. 

In Spike's blood fogged brain, the answer to his problems was perfectly obvious. It would solve everything. He wasn't equipped to help her, but he would be soon. 

After he drank all the blood in his fridge, he made his way downstairs to the bed. It was a long and painful trip, but he couldn't risk sleeping upstairs in his weakened state. He'd be too vulnerable to attack. From other demons. 

Not from Buffy. 

Never.

He could fix it though. Just needed to get himself a soul. 


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Buffy didn't sleep at all. She didn't patrol. She didn't leave her room. All she could do was sit up in her chair and stair out the window while thousands of horrible memories danced in front of her eyes in hues of scarlet and black. She had blocked these memories, or tried to at least, but they were never gone completely. She _knew_ she did horrible things to Spike, but she never allowed herself to really think about exactly what she had done to him. 

She broke him. He left because she broke him, with wild words and well aimed punches. Fuck. How could she fix him?  
  


How do you apologize for pounding somebody to a pulp? How do you apologize for calling him degrading names, laughing at his pain, abusing him, and taking his love for granted? How do you even begin?   
  


Buffy understood that she was the reason he wandered through the world as a zombie for ten years. She stole a decade from his life and her actions forced him to change on the most fundamental level possible. 

How do you apologize for _that? _No wonder he hated her. 

She hated herself. 

The tears fell freely from her eyes, and she didn't bother wiping her face. Her nose ran too, but she didn't notice. 

The knock on her door startled her out of her morose thoughts. She sniffed and wiped her face, doing her best to hide the evidence of her crying lag before she invited her visitor in. 

"Do you know how to get her back?" Spike asked quietly as he shut the door behind him. 

"Yeah." Her voice was strained and quiet, as she did her best to keep the flood of tears from bursting through.

"Right then, who do we have to kill?" 

"Nobody."

"What do you we have to do?"

"I don't know Spike. I mean, I know, but I don't know how to do it." 

"Can I help?" Spike asked. 

"Maybe. Well, yes, actually." 

"What do want me to do?" 

"Why do you want to help me, Spike?"

Spike frowned, "What kind of question is that?" 

"Just, why?"

"Because I want to get Joyce back. She's a special girl."   
  


"You weren't going to come back, were you?" 

Spike sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. His hair was long, hanging in his face, and Buffy thought that maybe she'd offer to cut it sometime. "Originally," he said, finally. "I planned on coming back." 

"What happened?"  
  


"There were several trials I had to perform to get my soul. Pretty standard feats of strength. It took a long time—so I long that I lost track. But halfway through, I realized that I didn't really want the soul, and I didn't want to come back. But by then it was too late to stop."

"Is that why you were…"

"Crazy? Yeah. You are my last trial. It's not finished yet. I don't really know what the deal is."

"Why were you going to get a soul?"  
  


"Well, for you of course. I thought if I got a soul, I'd be able to help you." 

"Why?"

"Buffy, brains were coming out my ears when I made this decision. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

That shamed her into silence. 

"So, Buffy, what's the deal?"

"It's all my fault," she muttered. 

"What? Buffy, no, we've already covered this. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have…"

"No, Spike. It's my fault. Willow said that I—the greater the sin, the greater the punishment."

"What are you saying, Slayer?" 

"I'm being punished, Spike. For what I did to everybody…to you." 

Spike blinked. "That doesn't make any sense." 

"Of course it does! Spike, you said it yourself that you had brains leaking out of your ears when you left. I can't even begin to comprehend all the ways I hurt you. And that's the thing, I _haven't_."

"So what? If you apologize to me, we'll get Joyce back? Great, I accept your apology."

Buffy sniffed, "I think we both know that's not enough." 

"What would be enough, Buffy?" 

"I don't know. But Willow said that Joyce is safe, so I guess we have enough time to work it out." 

Spike picked up a book that was near him and flung it at the wall in anger. Then he looked for something heavier and glass to throw, but Buffy quickly stood to stop him. He turned to face her, his nostrils flaring with anger. "That's not right, Buffy. You don't deserve to go through this because of what happened. I'm not worth it." 

"Why do you think that? Why do you think that I should get away with beating and abusing you?"   
  


"Because you were in a bad place and—"

Buffy's voice rose above his, "That's no excuse."

"And you didn't know better!"

"I _knew_ it was wrong, Spike!" Buffy yelled back. "I knew it was wrong, the things I did, the way I acted. But I didn't stop. You were the one who loved me the most, and you were the one I hurt the most." 

"But it doesn't matter anymore, Slayer. It really doesn't. I'm fine, you're fine, everything is fine." Spike looked up to ceiling as if you to yell at God, "Did you hear that? We're all good down here, so you can give us the little girl back!" 

"Spike, stop shouting, the rest don't know." 

"What if isn't about me at all, Slayer? What if you misunderstood? I mean, you didn't exactly treat your friends and family right."

"Spike, I've spent over nine years making amends for that. Sending Dawn to school, raising Joyce, apologizing to all of them on a regular basis; we've all made our peace. But making amends to you is just as important." 

Spike collapsed on the bed. "I wish you guys never found me. How the hell did I make it all the way to L.A.?" Spike held his head in his hands, "I always manage to mess up your life, one way or the other. You should have let Angel kill me, I'm sure he wanted to." 

"What are you talking about me Spike?"

"Whose fault is it you died? Mine. Who didn't stop them from dragging you out of heaven? Me. And now I'm back, and you've lost your daughter. Why? Because of me."

"No!" Buffy protested loudly, and then quieter, "No. Spike, none of that was your fault. None of it."  

"Buffy, if I had been faster or stronger or a little bit smarter, you wouldn't have died and _none_ of this shit would have happened." 

"We can all take responsibility for what happened that night, Spike. You can't blame yourself…"

"I can blame myself, because I know it's my fault."

"You're so stubborn. Jesus Christ, what does it take?"

"Just admit that I'm right, then we start doing whatever it takes to get Joyce back."

"You're not right!" She punctuated this statement with a punch to the nose. They both froze as blood dripped from his face onto the carpet. 

"Oh. God."

"Buffy…"

She started waving her hand, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh god, oh god, oh god." 

"Slayer, don't cry. Look, I'm fine."

"I can't…I don't deserve to have her back, or your forgiveness. I don't deserve any of it." She moved quickly to the door, evading Spike's reach. Tears were rolling down her face and her body was hitching in sobs. "I have to…

~*~

…_go_, Spike thought. _Gotta go_.

The problem was, Spike couldn't move. He thought it would only take a day or so to get better, but he must have been more injured than he realized. Each day passed slowly in a haze of pain and hunger. He didn't have any blood downstairs, and he needed that to get better. 

He alternated between hoping Buffy would come back and dreading her return. She didn't though. The stake wound in his chest was still dripping blood, and it didn't look like it would close anytime soon. He wondered if vampires could get infections. 

Even if he could walk, he couldn't go out and buy blood. He was too weak; wouldn't be able to defend himself if he ran into one of his many enemies. He'd be fine though. He had been through much worse and lived to tell the tale. 

Of course then, he had Dru and dozens of minions to take care of him. Didn't matter though, he could take care of himself. 

He passed his long, painful convalesce by making plans. He decided that he would get to Africa the old-fashioned way, by steamer. It would be faster to fly, but much, much more difficult. He had heard of a Shaman there, someone who was supposed to have the ability to call souls out of the ether. He had investigated it a bit after Angelus got cursed at Darla's request. She wanted to figure out how to get rid of the soul. Spike rolled his eyes, if they had only known. 

If the Shaman was still in Africa, he'd be set. If not, he'd just have to get a bit creative. But either way he'd have to come back as quickly as possible. It would not be a good idea to leave everybody alone in Sunnydale for too long. They needed his help to stop the demons. And to stop Buffy. 

  
At one point during the long period of pain and waiting, he finally lost too much blood and passed out. But there wasn't even any release in his dreams, because they became agonizing replays of the night on the tower, and the night Buffy came back. Over and over and over, she fell right in front of him. Over and over he was forced to look at her battered and broken body, lying on the rubble, so close to him, yet so far. And there was no escape. He couldn't force himself to wake up. 

Finally the taste of sweet blood pulled him through his dream world, and when he opened his heavy eyelids, Dawn swam into focus. 

"What are you doing here?" He mouthed. He didn't have the energy to force sound past his lips, still swollen and bloody. 

"I'm making sure you aren't dead. Just drink this."  She forced bagful after bagful of blood down his throat until he felt his strength returning. Finally he stopped her.

"Don't say anything," Dawn said. "Save what energy you have. I can't come back. But I'm leaving this blood here by the bed for you."

"How did you know?" Spike asked. 

"Buffy."

"She told you?"

"She didn't have to. Take care, Spike." 

That was the last time he saw his lil bit in ten

~*~

…years? How could _nothing_ change in ten years? Was she really that evil, that awful? Would she ever hit Joyce for talking back to her? How could she _hit _him again? How could she do that again?  
  


The last time she hit him and ran, she was full of black tar. But now she didn't have any feelings at all. Just an empty numbness that covered her entire body, making it difficult for her to even think. She would have to let him leave again, because he didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved it. 

  
Tears of frustration, guilt, disgust, and anger overwhelmed her and she sunk to the cold ground and leaned against a headstone. She thought she was better. She thought she had it all together, and at the first provocation she made him bleed again. 

Bleed all over her mother's carpet. 

She wished she didn't love him. If she didn't love him, it wouldn't be as painful. For either one of them. 


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

After Buffy ran out of the room, and the blood flow had ceased, Spike set to work on cleaning the red drops from the carpet. He knew from experience that you could avoid stains completely if you did it while the blood was still fresh. 

He was torn. He wanted to follow Buffy and assure her that he was fine and everything was ok. But he knew that it might be best to leave her alone, to let her have some time to think. He was bothered by the way her face crumpled, the look of horror and sorrow in her eyes. She didn't even hit him that hard. 

Spike ran his fingers through his hair with frustration. He wanted to help Buffy do whatever she had to do, but he knew there were some things that he couldn't do anything about. Whatever was going on, whatever lesson she was supposed to learn, whatever she had to do to get Joyce back, it was all on her. 

When the carpet looked good as new, Spike leaned back on his heels and closed his eyes. He had to find her. He couldn't let her do anything drastic, and for once, they would have a civil conversation. Even if it killed both of them. Which was more likely than not. 

Spike went into the bathroom and watched his face, careful to remove all the signs of blood. His nose wasn't even tender or bruised, so there wouldn't be any signs of the violence. Buffy didn't need that. 

They were all waiting downstairs for him, eager to find out what was wrong with Buffy, and if he knew where Joyce was. He couldn't answer their questions. "Look, I have to go find her."

"What's wrong with her?" Dawn asked. 

"She's just worried, Bit," Spike answered as he pulled his duster on. 

"She didn't look worried when she ran down here," Giles observed, "she looked devastated. Please, Spike, if you know something about Joyce's whereabouts…"

"Joyce is fine," Spike assured them as he opened the door. "They're both fine. They're going to be fine."

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself, Spike?" Xander asked. "Because from where I'm standing, things to not look fine." 

Spike paused in the doorway. "You'll have to ask Buffy when I bring her home." 

"When will you be…

~*~

…_back_, Giles read aloud, _but you have to come back. Now. She's killing herself, Rupert, and she's going to take everybody down with her. She needs your help. She's hurting Dawn. _

Giles read and reread the letter, confronted with the fact that he had been doing his damnest to deny every since Buffy had come back. 

She had changed. Beyond recognition, and maybe beyond repair. But he had no idea how bad it was, and if Spike's short, scrawled note was to be believed, it would only get much, much worse. He had left because he honestly believed she needed to become an adult, be pushed out of the nest. But he understood that it was too soon. He had pushed her too hard. 

Not trusting Spike's authority on the matter, he attempted to contact Dawn. Every time he called though, Buffy answered and informed him coldly that Dawn was grounded, or indisposed. He tried to contact Xander, but he was not very forthcoming. He tried to minimize the damage, and carefully avoided stating outright that Buffy had done anything wrong or hurt anybody. But the third time Giles called, Xander admitted that both he and Anya had been on the wrong end of Buffy's fist.

And it had only gotten worse after Spike left. According to Xander and Willow, that's when she really lost control. Giles didn't know if it was because she missed him, or because he wasn't there any more to bare the brunt of the abuse. Either way, he had a moral responsibility to all of them to get back to Sunnydale. 

So only a few weeks after he settled into his new apartment, he packed up and flew back to California. He armed himself with powerful magicks for protection and binding spells, knowing full well that if his Slayer was truly out of control, he wouldn't be able to subdue her himself. And after his discussions with Xander and Willow, and his lack of discussion with Dawn, he knew this could very well be the case. 

His first stop in Sunnydale was not the Summers' residence. He didn't want Buffy to know immediately that he was back. He needed to gather more information. The note he received, the fact that _Spike_ was frightened of her, had sent shivers down his spine, and he needed to be fully prepared. 

The children he found at the Magic Box were not the children he left behind. They all scurried around the shop, jumping, frightened. Xander sported a bruise on his left cheek, and Dawn's hair was cut very short. Giles had never seen her wear such conservative clothes, and there wasn't even a ghost of a smile around her eyes. 

"What's going on here?" Giles asked softly when nobody noticed him, and they all jumped at the sound of his voice. 

"Does Buffy know you're here?" Willow asked quickly. 

"Not yet. Is Buffy here?"

"No," Xander answered. "She's running errands. She should be back in a few hours." From the tone of his voice, Giles could tell this was not something the younger man was looking forward to. 

"What's going on?" Giles repeated. 

"We messed up," Willow admitted softly. "We did something wrong. She's…she's wrong." 

"Has she been hurting you?"  
  


Everybody averted their eyes. They were cowed, and too ashamed to admit it, even if they did need his help. 

"You have to tell me what's going on," he prompted gently, "or I can't help."

"Nobody can help," Dawn said bitterly. "Spike tried, and look what happened to him." 

"What did happen to Spike?" Giles inquired. 

Dawn met his eyes, her baby blues bleak and awash with tears she didn't dare let fall. "She beat him within an inch of his life, and he ran away." 

"Don't be overdramatic Dawn…" Xander started.

"There was a stake wound. In his chest. I saw it when I brought him blood. She missed the heart on purpose," Dawn explained, dully. 

Giles shifted, uncomfortable. "Does anybody know what's driving her to these…extremes?" 

"She wants control," Anya stated. "She doesn't have any control, so she's using her super strength to control all of us. And even with Willow's magic, there's not much we can do about it." 

He could always count on Anya to lay it on the table. He smiled at her, thankfully. Ok, they had a starting point. "Willow, how much research have you done on the spell you used." 

"As much as I could," she informed him, "I have a lot of notes."  
  


"I'll need to look at those, to see if something failed. Maybe there really is a part of her missing." Willow stiffened at the suggestion, clearly offended, but Giles didn't have time to mollify her. "She may have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is something that can be treated, if she agrees to it." 

"That's the thing," Xander said, "how can we make her agree to getting treated."

"We can't," Giles admitted, "Buffy is going to have to realize that she need….

~*~

…help. She needed help ten years ago, and she needed help now. The therapist that the Council had provided her worked wonders once she allowed her in, but she stopped going to therapy over a year ago. She stopped going when the therapist insisted that Buffy talk about Spike, claiming that after eight years, she had to face those demons. 

  
But Buffy hadn't been ready to talk about that aspect of her life. Even after all that time had passed, and now she regretted that decision. Maybe if she had, they wouldn't all be in this mess. 

"There you are," Spike said softly, behind her. She spun around to face him, ready to tell him to go away, but once she saw him, all she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms. Couldn't he make everything better?  
  


"Yep, you found me." 

"You didn't need to run away like that." 

"I can't stand what I've become…"  
  


"A strong, capable, loving woman and mother?" 

"That's not what I meant. I can't…can't control these things, Spike. Not as well as I'd like." 

Spike grabbed her hand and led her across the cemetery to a large crypt. He pulled her behind it, and forced her to sit down. "Bit of privacy back here," he explained, sitting beside her. 

"Not too many people roaming the graveyards after dark, Spike." 

"Buffy we need to have an honest conversation, or we'll never get anywhere. You won't get your daughter and I won't get my soul anchored." 

"Right," she agreed quickly. "I can do that." 

Spike arched his eyebrow, "Is that right?"  
  


"I can have an honest conversation," she said defensively. "Start talking." 

Spike sat in silence for several seconds, unsure of where to begin. Finally he asked, "What can't you control?"

"Myself, Spike. I hit you when you make me angry, what happens when Joyce makes me mad? Am I going to haul off and pop _her_ in the nose?" 

"Have you ever wanted to?" Spike asked. 

"No, never! But still…"

"Buffy," Spike said gently, "You're a good mum, and Joyce loves you very much. You would never hurt her, and in your heart, you know that." 

She nodded, but she still looked miserable. "How is your nose?" 

"It's fine. I heal fast." 

"And how long did it take you to heal from that stake wound?" Buffy asked. "How long did it take for your teeth to grow back?" She raised her voice with each question, until she nearly shouted, "How long did it take to drag yourself out of your crypt, broken and beaten, Spike?" 

"A few weeks," he answered mildly. 

"Spike, I'm so sorry." She took a deep breath, "I know this doesn't justify what I did, but I was going though a very rough time. There were complications…with the magic that Willow used to bring me back. Also, my therapist thought that I was suffering Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and acting out."

"What was wrong with the magic?" Spike asked quietly. 

"Willow called forth the Warrior of the People. That's only a part of who I am."

"So what? The part that makes you Buffy wasn't there? You're soul?"

Buffy shook her head, "No, I had my soul and everything else. But I wasn't balanced, or something. I never quite understood it. But the magic couldn't fix me. I had to spend a lot of time in therapy." 

Spike raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Can't imagine you in…"

~*~

"…therapy?" Buffy asked incredulously. 

"Yes, therapy," Giles repeated. "I think it could help you."

"Help me with what?" Buffy demanded, "I don't need therapy." 

"Buffy, you're hurting your friends and your sister. Dawn told me you nearly beat Spike to death. Is that true?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "I wouldn't hurt them if they would just listen to me," she muttered. 

"Buffy, I'll be honest. I am extremely worried about you."

"Well, don't be," she said coldly. "I'm fine." 

"I'm worried about Dawn too." 

"She's fine."

"Buffy, what would Joyce say if she saw the way you treated Dawn and your friends?" 

Buffy looked stricken, but only for a moment. "Don't talk about my mother." 

"She would be disappointed in you, Buffy." 

"You know what? I don't need to take this. I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere." 

"What are you going to do? Tie me up? You can't keep me here." 

Before Buffy could move again, Giles pulled the hypodermic needle out of his jacket pocket and stabbed her quickly in the arm. "I'm so sorry," he muttered as he caught her slumping body.  "I just want to help…"

~*~

"…you," Buffy admitted. "I stopped going when she asked me about our relationship. I wasn't ready to talk about it, it hurt too much. I just felt so…raw." 

"Do you think that was a good idea?" 

She laughed bitterly, "No. I was just being avoid-o girl again." 

"You could always go back," he suggested.

She nodded, "It wasn't a big deal when I quit because I felt great about myself and everything. I didn't realize I needed more help." 

During the course of the conversation, Buffy moved closer to Spike until she was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand was on his knee, and he idly caressed it while she talked. 

They continued speaking in low voices. Buffy allowed the floodgates to open, and before she knew it, she was pouring everything out. Spike listened attentively and responded occasionally as she explained the pain and confusion she went through, especially before he left. Her confession was mingled with tears and apologies, and he patiently waited for her to speak, never rushing or interrupting her. 

And as Buffy talked, they both realized how comfortable they were with each other. Every since Spike had returned to her life, Buffy was uncertain of how to act and talk around him. Who knew that the truth would be the best option? And Spike had been confused by her uncertainty, but the more she explained, the better he understood. 

When her story was finally finished, neither spoke for a very long time, both consumed with their own thoughts of the past and their possible future. 

"Do you want me to do your hair?" Buffy asked suddenly.

"Yeah." 


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"Cut and bleach? Or just cut?" 

"Whatever you want," Spike answered.

"It's your hair, Spike, you decide." 

He shrugged, "It's not like I can see it." 

Buffy tilted her head and examined him, "I like your natural color. Why did you dye it?" 

Spike smiled. "You know, I don't even remember."

"Because of Dru?" Buffy asked. 

He shook his head, "No, she didn't really care. I guess it doesn't really matter if you dye it or not." 

"How short do you want it?" 

Spike grimaced, "I hate these curls." 

"Really? I think they're adorable."

"They're a bloody pain in the ass, is what they are." 

"I don't like your hair plastered to your head." 

"Well, it's hard to be the Big Bad if I look like a fluffy puppy." 

Buffy laughed, "Yeah, I guess so. How about a trim? It's a good thing vampire hair doesn't grow as fast as uh…human hair. It'd be down past your ass by now otherwise."

It was Spike's turn to laugh. "That's quite the image, Slayer." 

She frowned and continued to study his head. "Ok, how am I going to do this?" 

"You have cut hair before, right?"

"Oh! Of course! Once, I cut Xander's."

Spike blinked, "You once cut Xander's? Is that all of your experience?"

"Of course not! When I was a kid, I had the Barbie with long hair. You know the one you could cut and it would grow…" She tapered off at his aghast look. "What?"

"All of a sudden, I'm thinking this isn't such a good idea."  

"Come on Spike, it's not like you have a choice."

"I can go to a barbershop or something. You know, with people who actually know how to cut hair." 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "The lack of reflection might cause a slight problem for you. Now come on, you're being a coward." 

"I'm not a coward just because I don't want some mad woman attacking my head with scissors!" He said this with a smile though, and Buffy knew he was teasing. 

"Stop being such a big baby. Now hold still. Don't worry, it's just a trim." 

Several minutes passed in silence as Buffy worked diligently, a look of intense concentration on her face. Spike longed to see his reflection as thousands of horrible images filled his head. Spike would never admit it, not even to himself, but he was terribly vain and the thought of an uneven haircut was almost enough to make him panic. 

Drusilla used to cut his hair, and that was always an interestingly terrifying experience. He couldn't deny her though, and when she asked for the scissors, he just braced himself and prayed to whoever watched over errant vampires that she would avoid stabbing him in the eye or cutting off his ear. The outcome of his hair was literally the least of his worries when Dru was armed with sharp weapons. 

Spike was pulled from his reverie by Buffy's small gasp and nearly silent "Uh oh." 

"What?" Spike demanded. 

"Oh, it's nothing," Buffy said, too lightly. "Nothing at all, everything is fine."

"And somehow, I don't believe you." 

"I'm sure we can figure out a way to cover it up." 

"Cover what up?"

Buffy avoided the question. "How fast can your hair grow?" 

Spike rolled his eyes, and then bolted from the bathroom. "Dawn! Niblet!" 

Dawn came running up the stairs. "What? What's wrong? Hey, what happened to your hair?"

"Buffy happened," Spike answered. "How's it look?" 

Dawn walked around him, hemming and hawing as she examined her sister's handiwork. "Looks fine to me." 

"Really?" Spike asked skeptically. 

"He doesn't have a sense of humor," Buffy said from behind him. "I was just joking a little." 

"Don't joke about my hair."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes, "I'm surprised you let her get that close to you with scissors." 

"Me too," Spike muttered. 

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad," Buffy protested. 

Spike plucked the scissors from her hand, "Looks like you can use a hair cut too Slayer." 

She backed up, her eyes wide, "No my hair is fine, thank you."

"You think so? It looks like you've got split ends to me."

Buffy paused, "Really? Wait, you're not tricking me."  She ran down the hallway to her room, Spike hot on her heals, brandishing the scissors like a mad man. 

"Come on Slayer, I know what I'm doing! You can trust me!" 

She laughed, "Not with sharp tools I can't." She reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her, but Spike was only a step behind, and used his leg to block the door. 

"Ow," he howled, "that hurt!" 

"Well then you shouldn't chase me!" Buffy yelled over her shoulder as she moved towards the safety of the bathroom where she could lock the door. 

  
But she didn't move fast enough. Spike caught her arm and threw her on the bed. She laughed and struggled against him, both of them knowing that Spike didn't really have the upper hand.  He pushed her on the bed and held her down with his body. 

"Now hold still, Buffy, this won't hurt a bit." 

She squirmed under him, her soft body grinding into his crotch, and his cock instantly responded. They both froze. There was no mistaking Spike's reaction and then Buffy's response. It occurred to Spike that the best thing he could do is stand up and calmly leave. He didn't want to go down this road again. 

_Why not_? A voice asked in the back of his head. He didn't have an answer, though. It would be so very easy to kiss her like…_this_…

She instantly opened his mouth under his, and eagerly kissed him back. Spike knew that if he kept kissing her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He was addicted to her taste and her scent, the soft feel of her lips, the curve of her thighs, the sweet sounds she made in the back of her throat, and he hadn't had a fix in ten years. 

He still loved her, and he was beginning to believe that she still…

~*~  
…_loves me_, Spike thought desperately, _she loves me and I'll show her. I'll take care of her. I'll be worthy of her_. 

"Why are you here?" The demon demanded. He lurked in the shadows, and Spike strained to get a good look at him. 

"For her," Spike finally answered, for the fourth time. After each trial, the demon asked the same question, and Spike gave the same answer. But each time, the response was weaker. Now it seemed he was losing all conviction. The demon sensed it too. 

"Very well. Now you must…"

"Wait, wait," Spike interrupted, "There's more?" 

"Yes." It pointed to the wall over Spike's shoulder and he turned around. 

"Well…fuck." 

~*~

The kiss deepened, and Spike shifted slightly so he could cup her breast with one hand, a thumb rubbing her nipple in a tight, circular motion. She moaned and ran her hand under his shirt, caressing his skin until the muscles jumped and quivered under her hand. 

The passion and desire built between them until they could almost taste it, touch it. The air was heavy with the sounds and scent of their lust, and with each passing minute, they became more frantic. 

They begin ripping and pawing at each other's clothes; suddenly the most important thing was to feel flesh on flesh, flushed skin against skin. Spike was losing control, and he knew it. If he wanted to have a semblance of control, he would have to stop…

~*~

"…now?" The demon asked. 

"For her," Spike answered, but his voice was as hollow as the answer. 

"Is she worth all of this, vampire?"

Spike nodded. But he no longer believed it. Somehow he was beginning to understand that this didn't matter. That whatever problems she had, it didn't have anything to do with him or his lack of soul. This was wrong, vampires weren't supposed to have souls. He wasn't giving up, but suddenly he doubted his reasons and motives, and himself. 

"For her," he repeated. 

"Very well."  
  
Spike turned around to see his next trial, and rolled his eyes. Would this never end? 

~*~

The clothes were in rags and tatters on the floor. The time to stop had passed. Neither one of the could stop if their lives depended on it. Spike could distantly hear the people downstairs, eating and resting, talking about what Buffy had told them about Joyce. Outside a car backfired, and a dog barked angrily. Spike registered every single sight and sound and stored it, to be called forth later when reliving this moment over and over.

Buffy's body was slightly different than he remembered. Older, not quite so lean. She had gained a bit of way and was nicely rounded. Her breasts were fuller, her tummy softer. He knew that he would have to take time to explore every square inch of her, reacquaint himself with the delightful perfection that was Buffy Summers. 

He still had reservations, but they didn't matter. He needed to be inside of her again, apart of her again, and he needed it more than he ever needed anything before. By the look in Buffy's eyes, it seemed clear that she needed him too. 

"Now," she gasped, "Need you…"

~*~

"…now?" The demon asked. 

Spike raised his chin defiantly. "No, I do not give up now. I won't. I came here for something, and I'll be damned if I leave without it."

"You're already damned Vampire," the demon commented. "Why are you doing this?" 

"For her." 

"I don't believe that and neither do you. Very well, you can have your soul, but you have one more trial."

"What?" Spike asked, even as the demon placed its hand on his chest and a blinding hot light suffused his body, coming out of his mouth and eyes, and a scream tore from his chest and the blinding pain paralyzed his body and he dropped to his knees. Over the sound of the pain and the blood and the screams her heard the demons say one word:

"Her." 

~*~

Spike entered her before he could change his mind, and they both half moaned, half screamed in unison. All conscious thought fled both their minds as he moved within her. Buffy was unable to control herself, and with each thrust, she got louder. Moans, screams, shrieks of pleasure spilled out of her mouth into Spike's ears. He couldn't help but echo her. 

They were both suffused in the white-hot light of passion, pleasure and gratification radiating through their bodies, and all Spike could think was _Never again, never leaving her again, love her, love her, loveherlovelovelovelove_. Buffy couldn't think at all. 

Finally, their world exploded and they were left grasping each other like a life-line. Spike came just a the shocking waves of pleasure rolled through Buffy's body, making her scream his name until her voice was hoarse and there was no strength left in her body. 

They collapsed, exhausted. Their muscles were watery, and neither could move. A huge smile spread across Buffy's face. Oh, had she missed this. She wrapped her arms around him, loath to lose any contact with him at all. 

"Love you so much," she mumbled before drifting off to a contented sleep. "Love…

~*~

…_you so much_, Buffy wrote, alone and abandoned in a small room where she wouldn't be a danger to herself or others. _I'm so sorry Spike. So sorry. Please come home_. 

"What's she doing?" Giles asked the doctor. 

"She writes letter when she's by herself," she explained. 

"Have you read them?"  
  


"She shared a few at her last session."

"And?" Giles asked.

The doctor shrugged, "And, she's got a lot of issues to work through." 

  
  



	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Spike idly traced patters on Buffy's back as she slept, splayed out across him. She looked so soft and peaceful that he could easily watch her for hours. He kept thinking about all the things she had told him, all the things she had been through. He knew her well enough to know that she had been completely honest with him during her confession. 

He could see from her relationship with Joyce that she had changed, and now Spike knew from her own words how she had changed. The long, hard personal struggle to become a better person. Not unlike his own trials. 

  
And what had he been doing while she was struggling to come to terms with herself and her family? He had been mindlessly roaming the world, completely caught up in his own pain. It would be easy to blame that on her, if he wanted. But he didn't want to. He made his own decisions; he could take the full responsibility for his actions.

Spike had no regrets. 

As soon as he registered that thought he felt the soul…

~*~

…rip through him. Then he felt nothing. The world was black and empty, and suddenly all he could remember was the way she looked, the way her hair smelled, the way her body felt. 

He had to get back to her. He didn't know how or why, didn't even know who he was or where he was. Already his mind was fading. He just had to find his way back to her. 

"Help?" He choked out. 

The demon standing above him was silent for several minutes. Finally he said, "If you truly love her, you will find her again. And when you find her again, your soul will be...

~*~

"..anchored," he breathed. "It's anchored. I'm done."  And suddenly the snatches of memories that he had been glimpsing became full paintings of the past. He got his mind back. He got everything back. It felt so good, he felt so complete, that he wanted to get up and laugh and jump and fight and shag Buffy some more. 

That was it. The regrets. He was afraid of loving her again, afraid he had been _wrong_ all these years about what they meant to each other. Spike had been so cold to her since he'd been back…so aloof…could she understand why if he explained it to her? 

"Buffy?" He said softly. "Buffy love, wake up." 

"What is it?" She muttered. "I have today off."

"I know you do love, but I need to talk to you for a minute." 

"What's up?" She asked groggily. 

"My soul," he said softly. "It's my soul."

She snapped up, wide awake. "It's not gone is it?"

He chuckled, "No. No, Buffy, it's permanent."

"The final trial," she breathed. "What happened?" 

"I trusted myself, my feelings, and you, finally. Buffy, when I went to get the soul…I didn't believe you loved me anymore, and I seriously questioned if I truly loved you. Then after I got the soul, I lost all my memories, and all I could remember was you. Buffy, I kept you at arms length because I thought I regretted every second I ever spent with you." 

"Spike, this isn't…I mean…every second?!"  
  


He smiled, "Every second. But that's the thing Buffy. I _don't_." He kissed her soundly on the lips. He pulled back from her mouth and began kissing her facing and neck feverishly. "I treasure every second with you." 

"I'm glad, but why all of a sudden?" 

"Because I can remember everything. Because you were honest with me. Because it's not fair to keep blaming you. Because I love you." 

Her eyes welled with tears. "Oh Spike, I've been waiting so long…" She clutched him, the tears falling quicker. "I am so sorry." 

"Shhh, pet, you don't need to apologize anymore." 

"I'll never be done apologizing. Thank you for forgiving me." 

He caught each tear with his lips. "Should have done it sooner, luv. I'm too stubborn. Never stopped loving you." 

"Don't leave again."  
  


"I won't," he vowed. 

"Spike, really I'm so—"

"Don't say it again, Buffy. I know what happened, I understand. And I'm so proud of you for what you have accomplished, how far you've come. I'm sorry I couldn't haven't been here for you."

She smiled, "Are we just going to lay here and apologize to each other all day." 

"I can think of better things to do…" 

"Yeah?" She challenged. "Like what?" 

Spike flipped them over and propped himself up on his elbow. "We skipped most of the fun stuff last night." He nuzzled her neck. "We could make up for that." 

"Mmmm, I like fun stuff." 

"Could make you scream," he purred. "I could make you moan. Or make you beg. What would you like?"

"Can I have all three?" 

He nibbled on her earlobe. "If you ask really nicely." 

"I just did."

"Mmmm, ask again." 

She smiled, "I guess this is the begging part of the fun."

Spike moved farther down her body and lapped at her nipple. "It is." 

"Spike," she gasped when he bit down gently on her soft skin. "Please make me moan." 

"What else?"

"Please make me scream." 

The words were barely out of her mouth when Spike plunged two fingers into her wet and waiting body. "Like this?" 

"Yes, yes," she panted, "like that." 

"What's in it for me?" 

"Spike…"

"Hmm?" 

"Oh god, I can't think!"

"Oh, well, I'll stop."

"No, no, no, don't stop." 

"Then what will you do?" 

"I'll make you scream," she promised. "I'll make you moan."  
  


His tongue swirled around her nipples as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. "Oooh, Slayer, are you making promises you can't keep." 

She shook her head wildly. If he stopped now, she'd kill him. "Can you tell me how?"

"Ohhh," she moaned, finding it harder and harder to concentrate as he increased his pace. "Suck on you." 

"Sucking is good. Where?" 

"Suck on your cock. Put it in my mouth. Lick you with my tongue, put it all the way down my throat." 

"Why Slayer! You little vixen." He directly stimulated her g-spot and she quickly came, clutching her body around his hand, until the powerful muscle contractions ceased. She sighed with relief and pleasure and smiled at him. 

"A girl can get used to that," she murmured. 

"Oh, you will." 

"You're turn?" 

He kissed her nose, "No. I'm gonna go get you breakfast." 

Sex was forgotten when she realized exactly how hungry she was. Her stomach growled loudly. "Yeah, that does sound like a good idea. Whatcha making me?" 

"That's a surprise." 

"I like surprises." 

He stood up and pulled on the remains of his clothes, than grimaced. "But first I'm going to put on some decent clothes. Except, I don't have any decent clothes."

Buffy frowned in response. "Oh right. With all the excitement, I've forgotten about it. But, uh, you could wear one of my robes," she offered. "Or, Xander may still be downstairs. Perhaps he can go pick something up for you? I'll go ask him." 

"You don't have to get out of bed Buffy. You look…" He paused for effect. "Delicious where you are." 

She blushed slightly. "It won't kill me to get up." She moved to do just that, but Spike pounced on her. 

"And I like you in bed." 

Buffy reached around and found the ticklish spot just above his hips. "And I wanna get up." 

Spike lips twitched with laughter. "Stop." 

"Make me." 

His voice was barely controlled, "If you don't stop, I'll…"

"Yes?" She asked, fluttering her lashes. 

"I'll take your…" But the threat was lost as Spike was finally forced to give into the giggles. 

"Gonna let me up?" 

He nodded helplessly, and she finally released him. "Bitch, that was cheating." 

"Awww, poor Spikey. Can't take a little tickling?"

"I'll show you…" But Buffy had already grabbed her robe and bolted out the door. 

Spike smiled and lay back on the bed, and began idly rubbing his hard member. He shouldn't have let Buffy go. Now he was all excited and she was downstairs, instead of in bed where she belonged, with her hot mouth wrapped around his aching dick. He sighed at the thought. This would never do. Maybe if he yelled real loud, she would come up running, to check on him. Or maybe Dawn would come up to check on him, and that wouldn't do. 

He gave up and willed himself to relax. He was almost asleep again when he heard Buffy call out for him. "Spike? Spike!" 

"I'm coming!" He yelled, pulling on his tattered clothes, ignoring the fact that they didn't really cover much. 

He barreled down the stairs, and came to a complete stop at the bottom, eyes wide, mouth open. "Ohh," he breathed. 

Willow was standing in front of the door, holding Joyce, and beaming. "Hi Spike. Nice clothes."  
  


"Yeah," he agreed without thinking. He could see Buffy itched to take the girl from her mother, but instead she hovered nearby, tears silently streaming down her face. 

"Spike!" Joyce said happily and reached for him. 

"She's ok?" Buffy asked.

"She's just fine," Willow answered. "I'm sorry we had to do this Buffy, but…"

"I understand," she said softly. "Can I hold her now?" 

Willow gave her daughter one last squeeze and a kiss on her cheek. "I love you Joyce."

"I love you too Mommy." 

Buffy took the little girl in her arms with a half-sob of relief. "Oh, baby, I was so scared. I missed you so much."

"I was fine," the girl promised solemnly. "I was with mommy." 

Buffy hugged Joyce until the little girl grew impatient with the coddling and began to squirm in her arms. When Buffy set her down, she immediately ran to Spike who was still staring at Joyce and Willow in shock. He scooped up the little girl when she launched herself into his arms.

"You've cut you're hair," she observed.

"I have." 

She pouted, "I wanted to do it."

"Maybe next time." 

"Wills?" 

"I have to go now Buffy, but you know we're never far. Take care of her."

"We will," Spike promised. 

And then she was gone, leaving Buffy, Spike, and Joyce in the hallway, suddenly hesitant. 


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31  
  
Spike couldn't help but be a bit hurt. He understood that Buffy had missed Joyce and wanted to take care of her. He had missed the little girl too. But that didn't mean that she needed to spend every waking, and sleeping, second at the girl's side for three days straight.  
  
Spike wanted to spend some time with Joyce, but Buffy wouldn't let him, or anybody else, near her. Buffy kept her coddled and stuffed with food and spoiled her rotten. It was clear from Joyce's face that she was beyond pleased with all the attention. Spike suspected she was already planning her next disappearance. Ice cream, toys, cartoons, movies, and of course, she didn't have a bedtime anymore or any restrictions at all.  
  
And Spike had nothing to do. Dawn had gone home, and so had Giles. Since the crisis was averted, Xander returned to his own life. Buffy basically acted as though he wasn't even in the house, and so he found himself hiding in his room, doing his best to keep himself entertained.  
  
Spike knew this was an extreme situation. Once Buffy got used to having Joyce around again, she would back off and things would be back to normal. He could wait.as long as things got back to normal within the next few hours. But what really bothered him was the realization that this was the rest of his life. Raising a small child, having a family, being with Buffy. Terrified him, really.  
  
Joyce was cute and endearing when she was solely Buffy's responsibility. Joyce was a joy to be around when he didn't have to deal with the fact that he actually had to raise her. And spending a lifetime with Buffy would be ideal if it was just the two of them, slaying, fighting, fucking, maybe traveling a bit.  
  
And besides, what did he know about raising a child anyway? Sure he took care of Drusilla for over a century, and she was child like, but that was a far cry from actually taking care of a real little baby. And there was no doubt in Spike's mind that if he became a real part of Buffy's life, he would be elevated to the status of daddy.  
  
Also, he didn't like sharing Buffy's attention. It was bad enough that when they were sleeping together, he was always pushed off into the shadows, low on her list of priorities. Below her boyfriend, her family, her friends, her calling, even some of her hobbies. Now he would be below the kid, and rightfully so.  
  
The thing was, Joyce and Buffy were a package and to put it simply, Spike didn't know if he could deal with both. Spike didn't know if he wanted to deal with both. But the only alternative would be to leave, and he didn't want to do that either. He couldn't leave Buffy, not when he had finally found her and the love that's been missing for a decade.  
  
He knew he needed to talk to her about his feelings. If he had learned anything from his relationship with Buffy, it was that it was foolish to avoid talking about problems. So he bided his time, and waited for her to realize that a whole world besides the child existed, and allowed the doubts and insecurities to gnaw at his bones.  
  
Finally, a week after Joyce returned, Buffy crawled into her bed and curled next to Spike, completely exhausted.  
  
"Hey stranger," he greeted.  
  
"Hey," she sighed. "I'm so tired."  
  
"Have you slept at all?"  
  
"Yes, but not much. I was scared to close my eyes. Scared I would lose her again."  
  
"Feel better?"  
  
She rested her head on his chest. "Yeah, I do now. Plus, I'm sure she's tired of me."  
  
"You have been coddling her quite a bit. Smothering her, even."  
  
Buffy swatted him gently. "I haven't been smothering her. I just wanted her to know how much I missed her."  
  
"Can I show you how much I missed you?"  
  
"Sorry, I know I've been neglecting you."  
  
"S'ok, pet. Go ahead and go to sleep."  
  
"Wanna come with us to the park tomorrow?" She mumbled before her eyes fell shut.  
  
"What, luv?"  
  
But her only response was a soft snore. That was another thing, wasn't it? How do you raise a daughter when you're stuck inside all day? Spike wasn't one for convention, and most of the time didn't give rules or expectations a second thought. However, he did believe that vampires were not meant to be fathers, and he was not meant to raise Joyce.  
  
Spike didn't get a chance to talk to Buffy the next day either. She had to go to work, and pull some overtime to make up for missing so much. Fortunately for Spike, Joyce was sent to her normal daycare provider, and so he was free from that responsibility. When she came home, finally, she only had time for Joyce. Again. It became apparent to Spike that she didn't even realize there was a problem, it didn't even occur to her that there could be a problem.  
  
Finally, he caught her one night before she got too wrapped up in her nightly chores. "Buffy, we need to talk."  
  
"What? What's wrong?"  
  
"I'm going to find my own place to live." Fuck, that's not how he meant to tell her. He was going to lead into it, explain his motivations, make it clear he wasn't leaving her. But sometimes his mouth got away with him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I think it would be best if we had some space."  
  
"Space? Space for what? I thought we were doing just fine."  
  
"We're doing just fine, Buffy," he assured her, slightly thrown by the panic in her eyes. "I'm just thinking of getting a nice crypt with a view."  
  
"Crypt? You can't stay in a crypt!"  
  
"Well, why not? I've stayed there before."  
  
"I couldn't let Joyce be in a crypt, Spike."  
  
"Who says she'll be in my crypt?" Wrong thing to say.  
  
"Oh," she said quietly. "I see."  
  
"Buffy, that's not what I meant."  
  
"Maybe it's best if you just gather up your stuff and start looking now."  
  
"Buffy, look. I just felt that maybe I'm in your way."  
  
"Don't lie to me Spike. I think we're past that at this point. Just tell me the truth."  
  
"The truth? I don't want this."  
  
"What? Us?"  
  
"No, I mean, I'm not prepared to help you raise Joyce."  
  
"Nobody asked you to!"  
  
"You don't have to ask, Buffy. If I'm going to be a part of your life, I'll be a part of hers too. There's no way around that."  
  
"You didn't have this problem before."  
  
"It was different before."  
  
"So what do you want? You want to avoid her altogether? Do you want to leave me.us.and disappear for another ten years? What?"  
  
"I just want to put a bit of distance between us. Back off a bit."  
  
"Spike I need you in my life. Completely. I don't want to only see you on weekends. I don't want you to just be the guy I sleep with. I want you to be my partner. In every sense of the word."  
  
"I'm not ready for that," Spike admitted softly.  
  
"Will you ever be?"  
  
In response, he shrugged.  
  
"Jesus, Spike. After everything we've just been through, I can't believe you're pulling this."  
  
"Pulling what, Buffy? Would you rather me just keep my doubts and concerns to myself? Just pretend that everything is perfectly alright?"  
  
"No. I just don't understand why there is a problem at all. I thought you loved me, I thought you loved her."  
  
"I do," Spike insisted. "But this is.I need some time."  
  
"Fine, take all the time in the world." She stalked off, her face cloudy, her body tense. Spike couldn't help but smile slightly when he realized they just had a whole argument without exchanging blows.  
  
He quietly gathered his things and left the house before Buffy came back downstairs. It was clear that she wanted him gone as soon as possible, and maybe it would be best to give them both time to cool off.  
  
He was out of the house and halfway down the road within ten minutes, muttering angry curses at how stubborn she was and how inadequate he felt. 


End file.
